


The Basics

by slingading



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Friendship, Good times all around, and some bad ones too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 62,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slingading/pseuds/slingading
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots revolving around the lives of Steve and Herobrine as they attempt to understand one another's way of life, and try to make the other see through their eyes. Also, what it means to be called "friend."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Farm Hand

If someone had come up to him a year ago and told him he'd be not only spending time—willingly!—around a mortal but also helping said human care for simple farm animals, he would have executed them in the most brutal ways he knew how. Such a notion was ridiculous and he'd never allow himself to stoop so low to a human's level.

In hindsight, that reaction seems a bit...extreme. He of all people knows how much can change over the course of just one year, and he is even the prime example of that. Whereas a year ago he'd been doing whatever he pleased with no regard to the consequences, he now spends his time with the only human he finds acceptable enough to be graced by his continued presence. And he'll be the first to tell, living around a human for an entire year really opens one's eyes to life.

Maybe he'd been a human at one point, in the beginning. Human's live extraordinarily boring lives though, comparatively. How many venture out beyond the neighboring biomes? How many stay within the borders of "safety" they so believe in?

Perhaps that was one reason this particular mortal is preferable to the rest. The house he's built sits in a forest, just at the edge of some plains, which stretch on for hundreds of blocks in front of it. Behind the house, a few blocks into the forest opens up into a vast desert, equally as large as the plains opposite it. Quite a distance to the left there are large, towering mountains, and to the right there is a jungle, dangerous and untamed and, like the mountains, filled with resources. It is the perfect location for an adventurer such as this human, who surpassed his expectations long ago and continues to do so to this day.

The man, a young miner named Steve who prided himself on his excellent work ethic and his moral sense of right and wrong, used to live from biome to biome, enjoying the natural beauty that came with living not on but with the land. He'd found it odd at first that a human as sociable as Steve didn't want to live with other humans, but eventually chalked it up to one of the many oddities about the miner he'd just have to deal with.

But the biome hopping had occurred mostly before he'd even known of Steve's existence. It was a chance encounter that led to their inevitable fates. And the human would be dead right now if he was anyone else, but as a special surprise, Steve just had to be who he was. Not only did they share a striking physical resemblance, but for the first time in over a hundred years, the moment he's alone after meeting Steve, who decides to come down from their high horse in the Aether and attempt civil conversation? If the Aether Gods think they can simply waltz into his life again, they are sorely mistaken.

Because if there was one thing Herobrine hates more than anything else in this disgusting world, it's the Aether Gods and "The Almighty Creator" who thought themselves so much more important and better than everyone else. So what if Notch created the world? That didn't give him the right to do whatever he damn well pleased, not when Herobrine was punished for the same thing.

But these were problems stemming from his anger issues, as Steve called them, and the miner was trying his hardest to remedy them. Anger was often the trigger to any confrontation he had, but he feels they're always for a good reason. He was, if anything, a fair person. When he slates someone to die, they deserve it.

It's something they're working on. To the contrary of his initial belief, it is surprisingly easy to integrate himself into this human's routine. Maybe it was just Steve or maybe there's some cosmic force at work(that isn't Notch, that man could rot in the Nether), but whatever the case may have been, it's working for them.

There are some things, however, that he still detests participating in. Human rituals that seem meaningless, and Steve insists on his "help," but Herobrine doesn't know what Steve expects of him. He will do what he wants if it suits his fancy, and not a moment before.

That is precisely why he's standing to the side as Steve cares for some farm animals. A few chickens and two cows are all that he's managed to corral so far, but they provide a sufficient amount of food. For one person, a small farm is easy to care for and efficient. Steve didn't keep items in excess. If he needs something, he goes to get it, whatever it may be.

Case in point.

"Just come on, I need some sheep and it'll be nice having some company for once. Plus if you help, that means more sheep."

Herobrine crosses his arms and makes no attempt to move from his spot next to the house. "No."

Steve's mouth falls open in disbelief at Herobrine's abrupt response. "What! Why not? At least come with me, you don't have to do anything but I like having company." He clasps his hands together in a pleading notion, hoping that, for once, Herobrine will accept his invitation. Usually the man is stout in his denial of everything Steve considers "fun" or even just "sociable." It is often hard to change his mind as well, that he had learned in the beginning.

Herobrine narrows his eyes as he contemplates going along. He supposes that a want for company is an adequate reason to necessitate his presence. "Fine," he accepts, uncrossing his arms. "If you feel the need for company, I will join you. But I will not assist."

"That's fine, that's totally fine," Steve acquiesces, turning to spot the sun's course in the sky. The sun is just about to reach midday height, leaving plenty of time for them to search out a few sheep in the forest. "I've already got some wheat," Steve says, starting into the forest. "So let's go."

Herobrine follows, as promised, but makes no attempt at conversation. It is something that became clear to Steve fairly early on that if he wanted Herobrine to talk to him, in any capacity, the words have to be forced out through a continued effort. Steve rarely succeeds in that endeavor, but sometimes he is lucky. Maybe that luck is still with him.

Before he opens his mouth to start asking questions, he is surprised into silence by Herobrine instead asking him a question.

"To what purpose do these animals lend themselves?" He asks, keeping his gaze on the treeline. They've yet to spot any sheep, not something entirely uncommon. Sheep seem to either exist in large groups or not at all, which made it difficult to find and herd them into a suitable location. If either of them are going to see a sheep any time soon, it's going to be Herobrine.

"You mean why do I keep them?" Steve clarifies. Herobrine does not answer, which gives him all the answer he needs. "I do it because they're great resources. Chickens give me eggs, cows give me milk, and sheep give me wool, not to mention the meat they provide upon death." He shrugs, glancing around in search of sheep but there are none yet, so he turns back to look at Herobrine. A question rises to his tongue, one that's been on hims mind for a long time. He's in a constant debate with himself whether or not he should ask it. With so much time to spare, he decides perhaps now is perfect.

"Can I ask you a question?" Steve ventures, testing the waters. It will be a shame if Herobrine shuts him down before he can voice it, but it wouldn't be the first time. Such happened a lot when they first met. He's happy to see that since then, Herobrine was warmed up to him.

"You just did," Herobrine says. It is not the answer he expected but it's a good sign. Herobrine might humor him.

"Did you..." he pauses, suddenly wondering if this is a good idea. It is a bit of a personal question, something Herobrine has been successful at avoiding the months they've known each other. While he freely shares his past, he knows very little about the man next to him.

Herobrine turns his attention from the search to Steve when the miner doesn't continue. He can see a clear look of debate as Steve struggles to ask him a simple question. He frowns. "Are you going to ask me a question or have you changed your mind?"

Steve decides, to the Nether with it, he'll go on ahead and do it. "Did you ever do any of this?"

There is silence for a few seconds before Herobrine says, completely serious, "Walking?"

The force of his laughter has him bending double to support himself on his knees. It is such an unexpected response from someone like Herobrine that he can't help the laughs and giggles that come out of him. He laughs for nearly a whole minute before glancing up and catching sight of Herobrine's annoyed face, particularly the heavy downturn of his lips.

Steve stands back up and wipes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. He knows this behavior annoys Herobrine but he can't help it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasps out, finally settling down.

"I don't see the humor in this," Herobrine replies tersely, glaring. At one point, that glare was enough to give him nightmares for days, but now he feels oddly safe in its presence. He wonders fleetingly when the distinction occurred to him, and when Herobrine in general stopped being a threat to his life and instead a misunderstood, lonely man.

"I know, I'm sorry, really. I meant did you ever have to look for resources like this, like what we're doing? Did you ever have to herd cows into a pin or mine for hours looking for diamonds?"

Herobrine's severe expression lightens as he and Steve continue walking through the forest. He hears sheep to their right and sets them on that path, all the while turning Steve's question over in his mind.

"You are asking if I ever did what you are doing at this time."

"Basically, yeah."

Herobrine thinks back to his past...and immediately wishes to destroy the forest. His past is one soaked in anger, fear, and revenge, and something he does not like thinking about. While he can never run from it, he has done his best to forget the pain that laces those images.

He and Steve walk up a small hill, where sheep mill about in peace. Steve looks at him for a few moments, expecting some sort of answer, and when he gets none he leaves Herobrine's side to hold some wheat out to them. The sheep flock around him, each trying to obtain the treat held high above Steve's head. With the sheep now in tow, Herobrine starts walking back towards the house. Finally, he speaks.

"I don't remember," he starts softly. "My past is not one I look back favorably upon. There have been moments in my life that would have driven a human to madness, but I persevere, as I always will." He concludes, ending that conversation. It is not the complete truth, but neither is it a total lie. He has indeed forgotten most of his past, save the events that had shaped him into what he was known to be at the present.

However, there are a few select memories he holds in reverence. They are buried because they bring him happiness, of all things, and a powerful sense of regret, at which point he ceases contemplating memories that should have been forgotten worlds ago.

He remembers opening his eyes to the blue sky above. He remembers gathering materials to build. The land, back then, was different, in a way that is almost impossible to describe. Whereas now there are jungles and mountains and snow, then there was nothing. Or, perhaps there was. He does not know, only that if there were different biomes, they were few and far between. He remembers still creating tools for the first time, and building his first house, to gain shelter at night from the elements.

Coming up to Steve's house now, he stops short while Steve shuffles into a newly created pen, the sheep following dutifully behind. Herobrine observes the house, and like before, notices the familiarity behind its walls. It reminds him of his own first house: sturdy, homely, safe. A haven to escape to when the world simply didn't understand.

He senses eyes on him and turns to see Steve staring at him, a small smile on his face, which grows when he notices Herobrine's attention has turned to him. He holds out the wheat in his hand, still causing the sheep to clamber over each other, desperate for the chance at food. "Are you sure you don't want to help?" Steve asks, hopeful. It is a trait of his that might have contributed to Herobrine's opinion about the miner. He was happy to be alive and lived his life to its fullest.

"I am sure...but perhaps I can observe," he adds when Steve's smile falls. The look of genuine sadness present on one human's face is enough to make him rethink his previous offensive actions, something that would have been laughable a few short weeks ago. What it is about Steve that triggers these responses is just one part to a complex and engaging puzzle he's looking forward to solving. One step at a time.

As per his word he walks over to the pen, safe from the insistent farm animals as they push themselves closer to Steve in a futile effort to acquire the wheat clasped in his hand. The sheep are just shy of trampling each other when Steve finally lowers his hand into the fray. Within seconds he is relieved of it. He laughs softly at their antics as the few unlucky sheep who did not get to savor the delicious treat nudge up against his stomach and sides, sniffing for more. Steve reaches down to open a chest just outside of the fence pen, glancing up.

"Oh," he mumbles, standing back up with more wheat. He feeds the noisy animals mindlessly as he watches the sun start its descent below the horizon. While the sunset is beautiful, there is a more troubling matter occupying his mind.

He ducks his head a bit as he turns to look at Herobrine, smiling sheepishly. "I think I know the answer, but can you help me? The sun went down much quicker than I anticipated, and I still have to feed the chickens and cows. We can split up, I'll take the cows if you take the chickens? It's real easy, I swear. All you have to do is take some seeds from this chest," he kicks it in emphasis, "and throw them to the chickens. Easy, right?"

Herobrine raises a brow as his eyes slide over to the chickens. They wander aimlessly in their pen, occasionally pecking briefly at the ground, no doubt searching for any remaining morsels from the last feeding.

"You wish for me to throw food at animals?"

A breathy laugh escapes Steve as he climbs over the fence, straightening out his ruffled clothes. "Not  _at_  them,  _to_  them. Just throw it on the ground, they don't care."

A fair point. "I suppose it would not hurt to assist."

"Thanks man," Steve says, that jovial smile appearing once more. As he turns to tend to the cows, Herobrine searches through the chest and finds the aforementioned seeds. While tossing a few to the chickens, he gets lost in the thoughts that consume his mind.

Steve's question from early has stayed with him, distracting him from the world. He stares absentmindedly at the clucking chickens scrambling for food, a scene from long, long ago flickering over his present.

Chickens, in much the style of pen, cluttering around a gate as he stands before them, seeds in hand. Their is mirth in his eyes and a smile on his lips as he feeds them, affection heavy in his heart for the simple animals. He had been truthful to a degree when answering Steve's question, but even he doesn't know whether or not what he's seeing is his actual past. The memories are buried under hundreds of years of survival and tribulation.

When he pulls himself out of his revelry, it's to Steve waving a hand in front of his face. There are still seeds in his hand, and he tosses them onto the ground before blinking and facing Steve.

"What?"

As he drops his hand, Steve turns to gesture to the plains ahead. Herobrine can see skeletons and zombies leaving the safety of the caves to roam the land freely, no longer in fear of bursting into flames. A few of the mobs would have approached them, if not for his own influence over them. They are right to be weary around him. Herobrine understands the unspoken words. Steve does not wish to be outside while the mobs are out. While he knows they won't bother him while Herobrine is near, every human is ingrained with fear of them. It is irrational at times and highly bothersome, but it is something Herobrine has come to accept, at least in regards to Steve.

"I just didn't want to leave you here," Steve says, fidgeting as the mobs keep their gazes on him. They do not truly see Herobrine, having eyes only for the human next to him.

"Of course. I'm...sorry for disturbing you," he concedes, following Steve to the house. As is a custom of theirs now, Herobrine bids Steve a good night before taking a seat outside, on an overturned log. From the Nether he has brought a single block of netherrack, which he light using a flint and steel. He does not need the heat nor the light, not with his advanced and superior sense, but he knows the mobs are doubly unlikely to come close with the roaring fires as a detriment.

He reflects back on the day, on his initial distaste for caring after useless creatures and Steve's question from before, which he cannot get out of his head. Never before has anything troubled him longer than he permitted, but his mind seems fit to fight against him on this matter.

Memories still try to push their way to the forefront of his mind, each vying for his attention. Images flash by, too quick to properly observe yet just slow enough so he can  _see_ , so he can recognize what once was.

These episodes are not new to him. Once every decade or so his mind is overwhelmed by the world around it, and turns into itself, seeking a comfort Herobrine tended to keep far, far away. It was weakness, and unacceptable.

He closes his eyes and tries to think of the few things in this realm that calm him, that make him feel at peace. The memories, wild now and nearly untamable, are forced back behind a wall of _cool breeze of the ocean, vast and great and free, a freedom he so enviously cherishes. The sky, blue, so blue and the clouds as they drift lazily in the wind, uncaring of where they end up. How can they stand to exist so unbothered by the world? And how can he learn to do the same?_  Unbidden, the image of Steve feeding the sheep and smiling that happy smile come to mind, and it is the last piece necessary to seal the unwanted memories back where they belong.

He glances back at the house and thinks of its single occupant, and smiles a small, secret smile. Today has been an education. He cannot wait to see what tomorrow brings.


	2. Monster Hunter

Even though he'd grown up mostly alone with only himself to watch his back, he remembers being told to fear the mobs that come out at night.

From the youngest of children to the wisest of elders, everyone seems to be born with that ingrained fear of the hostile mobs. And for good reason: they kill mercilessly.

Maybe that's what make this such a terrifying experience.

"I really don't like this," Steve says again, feeling unsafe and vulnerable without a sword in hand. It is midnight, and he and Herobrine are standing at the edge of the desert behind his house. The long barren stretches of land grant easy visibility, for both humans and mobs. To his extreme displeasure, Steve can see an abundance of skeletons, zombies, spiders, and creepers. The occasional enderman teleports into view, usually sticking around long enough to either deposit a block or pick one up before disappearing again.

"I know," Herobrine says simply, scanning the desert in front of them. There is a creeper not too far away, and a zombie and skeleton a little farther past it. Perfect. "And I do not care. You trust me, do you not?"

"Of course I do," Steve assures, fidgeting as he looks back at his sword. It, along with Herobrine's diamond one, is sticking out of the dirt a few blocks behind them. His mind is screaming at him to pick it up—death awaits for those who ventured into the night without a weapon. Even a wooden sword will offer some relief to the terror threatening to consume him.

"Then trust in my words when I say you'll survive," Herobrine says, finally turning away from the mobs to make eye contact with Steve. "I won't let any of them hurt you." Words have never been his strongest suit. He finds that, among humans, eye contact is the easiest way to get his sincerity across, although he knows that often people have trouble looking into his eyes. The fear in every movement of Steve's body easily displays just how unsure the miner is of this plan, however, so Herobrine tries to convey in a gentle look safety and trust. It is hard, but he does it for his friend.

"I trust you, really I do, it's just that...you know, when you're young people tell you to fear these mobs. I mean, they kill people for no reason!" Steve whispers, his voice distressed as the nearby creeper turns its head in their direction.

Herobrine steps to the side, so as to make a clear path between Steve and the creeper. The miner has been, perhaps unconsciously, inching behind him, away from the desert and the mobs. "Then be happy knowing I'm here now to tell you otherwise."

Steve's protests—because he still has many, this idea is  _crazy_ —are cut off when Herobrine gives him a hard push forward, towards the creeper. His breathing picks up when he regains his balance, and he fears he might start hyperventilating if he gets any closer. He starts walking backwards, very slowly so as to not startle the mob, but a hand on the center of his back keeps him in place, and even pushes him forward a bit.

"Nope, I change my mind," Steve says, trying to turn away from the approaching mob but there are two hands on both his shoulders now, keeping him facing forward in a grasp stronger than obsidian. The creeper is unbelievably close now, closer than he would ever consider getting even with fully enchanted diamond armor. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the inevitable explosion kills him instantly instead of leaving him to suffer.

A few seconds go by, the odd silence only interrupted by the wind rustling some trees and dead bushes. But there is no tell-tale hiss. He hears a sigh before Herobrine says, his voice exasperated, "Open your eyes, Steve."

Steve opens one eye first, reluctantly, then the other when he sees a sight he would have never thought possible. A creeper is standing in front of him, close enough that he only needs to barely reach an arm out to touch it. The explosive mob is standing calmly, no hissing, no glowing nor expanding. It's standing like they aren't even there.

"What's wrong with it?" Steve asks quietly, as if any sudden movement or sound will trigger the mob.

"It knows that should it attack it will be killed immediately, and its efforts for naught," Herobrine answers, letting go of Steve's shoulders. He has a feeling Steve will no longer flee, not if he can stand in front of a creeper and not pass out. Besides, he's curious to see if his assumptions about Steve and other mobs is correct. It certainly proves true with the passive mobs of the daylight.

Steve stands up straighter and takes this rare opportunity to inspect the mob. It looks just as deadly up close than it does from a great distance—probably more so.

"So it won't attack?" Steve asks, a hint of fear still lingering in his voice.

"No."

"Huh," Steve mutters to himself. Like any sensible human being, Steve has only seen creepers from a distance. On a few occasions he's had to get too close for comfort to fight them off, but normally he stays very clear of the deadly mob. This is, possibly, a once in a life time opportunity.

The creeper continues to act as if they don't exist, twisting its head around to scan the land for any wayward travelers. It side steps them and walks away.

Steve lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, watching the creeper's back as it shuffles away from him. That was both exhilarating and traumatizing.

"On to the next then," Herobrine says, putting his hand on Steve's back to urge the miner forward. Despite the positive turn of that encounter, he still half expects Steve to turn and flee any moment.

The creeper is one thing—it usually keeps out of sight, preferring to sneak up behind its victims before detonating. Zombies, on the other hand, seem to enjoy getting up close and personal, and Steve has had plenty of experience dealing with the undead mob. They are by far the most common mob, and while they can hear the pounding of one's heart from several blocks away, their wretched stench can be detected from double that amount.

They stop a fair amount of distance away, a zombie swiveling their direction and starting to trudge over. Herobrine takes this opportunity to tell Steve something he is sure the miner won't appreciate. But hey, the guy's lucky he has any warning at all.

"Now, some warning with this one," Herobrine says, silently amused by the alarmed expression on Steve's face. "Unlike the creepers, who are among the smarter of the mobs, zombies are less influenced by my presence."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning it very well might try to kill you."

"What!?" Steve whispers harshly, almost yelling the word before deciding that quiet is much smarter. He would try to run but he's well aware that Herobrine is A: much,  _much_  faster than him and B: way stronger than he looked. If the heavy hand on his shoulder is anything to go by, Herobrine is anticipating his reaction to this little 'meet-and-great' they're doing.

"Relax," Herobrine says with mirth, and Steve can just imagine the smug grin on his face as he enjoys watching this torturous experience. "I'm only joking, isn't that what friends do?"

"Not when it's life or death!"

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before befriending me. All moments with me could be life or death."

Steve glares at Herobrine over his shoulder. "You're not funny."

Herobrine shrugs, looking past Steve to see the zombie a few blocks away. He drops his hand and steps back.

Steve almost asks what Herobrine's doing before remembering that there's a zombie coming towards them. He turns back around and comes face to face with it.

He feels like he's been struck by lightning, shock filling his body and making his movements still; even his breathing slows. He doesn't dare move a muscle, afraid that should he, the zombie will attack him.

As he stands there, the zombie is busy inspecting him. Now he can see why Herobrine had moved away: the zombie is walking circles around him. Whatever influence Herobrine has over these mobs, it is making him, a human, something else to these creatures. Does the zombie not recognize him as food, like they normally do?

It wouldn't have been so bad if the zombie had kept its hands to itself. But as fate will have it, the universe apparently hates him today, as the zombie grabs one of his arms and lifts it. The cold, dead feel of the zombie's hand on his arm is just about enough to make him sick, but the pure surreality of this encounter is enough to stave off his urge to turn tail and flee.

He's been grabbed by zombies before, usually when he's busy mining and tunes out the world around him, giving the mobs the perfect opportunity to get the jump on him. They aren't fast or strong, but they are determined, and there are a lot of them. There is strength in numbers, after all.

But this is nothing like those times. Those zombies had been hunting him down with the intent to kill and devour, but this one is acting like a child experiencing a new phenomenon for the first time. It doesn't try to bite him, despite having his arm inches from its face, nor does it try to rip him limb from limb. For being brainless, the zombie seems smarter than he'd ever have thought. He wonders how much of the zombie's behavior is truly its own, and how much is being influenced by Herobrine.

"Are you aware that you can speak to mobs?" Herobrine asks out of the blue, coming to stand beside him. The zombie lets go of his arm and turns to look at Herobrine, but makes no move to reach out and touch him.

"Really?" Steve says, taken by surprise at that bit of information.

"Yes. Here." Herobrine holds out a simple wooden stick, which Steve takes, eyeing it with confusion. "Throw that and tell it to fetch it for you."

Still confused but now slightly intrigued, Steve holds the stick up until it catches the mob's attention. He then throws the stick over the zombie's head. Lazily, the zombie's eyes follow it, its head turning at odd angles to keep up with the stick's flight through the air until it lands a few blocks away.

"Uhhh...bring me that stick?" Steve says uncertainly, more a question than a command but to his surprise—and amazement—the zombie spins on its heels and walks toward the stick. It takes a few tries to grab the stick, but once it is solidly in the zombie's hand, the stick is brought back to him, held in front of his face until he takes it. "Wow," he breathes. It's an eye-opener to see a mob act this way, like a dog eager to follow commands. "I had no idea they could be like this," he says, throwing the stick again. This time the zombie doesn't wait to be commanded, instead turning and fetching the stick again. Steve laughs a little, the sound perhaps the tiniest bit crazed. Is this some kind of strange dream, or maybe a hallucination? This can't be reality.

"Humans often fear things they do not understand," Herobrine comments softly, watching the zombie demean itself by acting like an overeager dog for a human.

Steve's smile fades as he thinks over Herobrine's words. "Yeah, I know how that feels," he mumbles, more to himself but Herobrine can hear perfectly fine, and chooses not to comment. Among the long list of things he and Steve have in common, their unwillingness to talk about their pasts seems to be at the top.

Sensing a change of pace needed, once the zombie returns with the stick Herobrine takes it and burns it in his hand until only ashes remained. "Begone now," he commands, and the zombie stares at him for a few seconds, the dumbest and emptiest of looks on its face before it turns and walks away.

"Are we done?" Steve asks, his voice hopeful. While he is pleasantly surprise by the outcome of these meetings, he still shivers at the thought of being face to face with the mobs he's grown up fearing.

"Just one more, perhaps, to prove to you that all is not what it seems," Herobrine says cryptically. He knows that the next mob he needs is in sight, and also that Steve is going to like this less than the creeper. "Do you see that enderman over there?" He points toward it.

"Oh, please no," Steve begs, closing his eyes and refusing to look. "Come on, seriously? Why?"

"What's this?" Herobrine feigns surprise. "Is there truly something in this world you fear? I though you feared nothing."

Steve frowns, still keeping his eyes closed. "I never said that," he mumbles, crossing his arms. "You should know that yes, there is something I fear. Everyone fears death! There's no way I'm looking at an enderman. That's asking to die."

"No, throwing mud at me after helping you tend to livestock is asking to die, and yet here you are, alive and well."

"Hey, you got your revenge for that, buddy. And I said I was sorry!"

"And I forgave you."

"Yeah well, coating me in mud from head to toe is a funny way of showing it."

"You should not have thrown mud at me in the first place."

Steve opens his eyes to glare at the amused smile across from him. Before he can speak in retaliation, a familiar and deadly sound interrupts him. Herobrine's looking up, over his head, and that can only mean one thing.

"As you can see, I am unharmed," Herobrine says. He returns his gaze to Steve. "This will be the last one, then I promise we can go home. Is that satisfactory?"

"No of course not!" Steve says, near hysterics. Boy can Herobrine be stubborn when he wants to be. Just his luck that  _something_  involves dangerous killer mobs. But...he really does want to go home. Sighing in defeat, he takes a deep breath and musters up enough courage to turn around.

He still keeps his gaze just off the enderman, who is now standing fairly close to him. There's a block of sand in its hands, and it appears to be in a trance-like state as it holds it. Psyching himself up in his head, he shifts his eyes the slightest amount over, enough to gaze, for the first time, directly at the rough black skin of an enderman.

He almost screams out in panic when the enderman's head snaps down to look at him. Its body starts shaking, and his does too, an innate fear of death kicking in. However, after a few seconds, the shaking suddenly stops and the enderman resumes staring out into space, still holding that block.

This time he's been holding his breath and finally starts breathing easier now that the enderman doesn't appear to want to kill him. Endermen are one of those mobs that no one wants to encounter, especially not in a mine were it is hard to  _not_  gaze at them. They like to stand in the middle of pathways, and while touching them does nothing, direct eye contact has signed many people's death warrants before.

"See?" Herobrine says, clapping him on the shoulder. The tense atmosphere makes Steve easy to startle, and he jumps, his heart racing a mile a minute. "I told you that everything would be fine." They turn around and start walking back towards Steve's house. "As long as I'm nearby, mobs will act as if you don't exist."

"Well let's hope I never get lost in a mineshaft then," Steve says, only half joking, and the strain of the night's events is evident in his voice. He's still in a state of shocked disbelief—mostly because he can't believe he's just stared at an enderman and is still alive.

As they return to the house, Steve thinks that, while he won't stop killing mobs if they attack him, he knows that, after this, he'll feel bad about it. Maybe he'll let the mobs not bothering him live instead of shooting them with an arrow. However, despite his poor heart being put through all that stress, he feels kind of glad Herobrine has forced him through that. He has a better understanding about the hostile mobs and how they aren't always out to kill him, but while he is sure of that, he knows that should Herobrine ever not be in the immediate area, those same mobs will hunt him down without a moment's notice and do it without a care in the world. And that's okay, because he feels lucky to be one, if not the only, human aware that mobs of the night aren't entirely what they seem.

Much like the strange man he now calls friend.


	3. Potion Masters

"I don't think you know quite as much as you claimed," Herobrine comments, sitting patiently on the stairs. He's watching Steve run around, collecting various items from chests and the gardens outside. He knows what Steve's trying to accomplish, and he also knows it was being done in the least efficient way possible.

"You're crazy, I know exactly what I'm doing," Steve says distractedly, a pile of glass bottles in his arms. He has to be careful while walking lest he trip and ruin all his progress. Despite there being an entire desert behind his house, he rarely makes time to collect sand for bottles. Making them is hardly the worst part of potion making however, and now he's starting to get to the intricate stuff.

"Is that why there's a spider eye in the furnace?" Herobrine asks smugly, eyeing the device. It is turned off at the moment, and has been since Steve had stuffed the eye into it.

Steve sits all the bottles down gently so as to not break any, and turns around. "I thought...Isn't that right?" He asks, frustrated. He walks over to the furnace and yanks the door open. Sure enough, the eye is sitting there, unperturbed, the coal beneath it cold and unused. "What the Nether, how is this wrong?"

"Have you ever actually made a potion before?" Herobrine finally asks, as he should have done in the beginning of this fiasco. Nevertheless, he could help Steve...but he chooses not to, partially because he enjoys the entertainment and also because Steve had assured him he knew exactly what he was doing. While obviously not the case, he stays out of the brewing process. He also might have failed to mention he knows how to brew potions.

"Uhhhhmmm...no."

"That much is clear," Herobrine says, walking over to the furnace and taking the eye out. He gathers a brown mushroom and some sugar from a nearby chest, making sure Steve's watching before combining the ingredients on the crafting table. He then hands the now fermented spider eye to Steve. "Why do you not go to a village? Surely buying a potion would be easier than making one, especially with how little knowledge you have on the subject."

As he holds the squishy eye, Steve's previous joy at having it fades. "Oh, you know," he says offhandedly, returning to the table with the bottles. He sits the eye down and starts filling the bottles with water from the cauldron next to him. He can feel Herobrine staring at him, waiting for an answer he isn't willing to give. "I just think it's more beneficial to learn potion brewing myself, that's all. No need to spend my hard earned emeralds on simple potions, right?"

Herobrine frowns and returns to his seat on the stairs, leaving the conversation at that. He's noticed that every time he brings up the subject of other humans, especially villages, Steve becomes oddly and uncharacteristically withdrawn. He looks like he's uncomfortable with every mention, and always finds ways to shut the conversation down or change the subject quick enough to avoid the original question. It both bothers and frustrates him. He isn't stupid—something happened in Steve's past which has resulted in this behavior, and what bothers him is that Steve isn't willing to share that information.

But, maybe he shouldn't be one to judge. After all, when Steve asks him about his own past, he remains silent, or plainly says he doesn't wish to speak of it.

He sits in silence, watching Steve fill bottles with water, the miner's mood slowly returning to normal the more he checks the notes he's gathered. One benefit of having him as a friend, Steve likes to boast, is that theoretically, anything he could want is at his fingertips. Herobrine has his own personal stash of items he's collected over decades, precious metals and blocks of all kinds sitting wasted in chests deep underground. He collects items he has no use for, taking them simply because he can. Some such items are books from strongholds, their pages filled with knowledge from the ancient humans, whose techniques for building still influence the structure of modern day projects. But it is their potion knowledge which is greatly helping Steve in learning the basics of what he needs to do.

Steve has spent the last few days tirelessly gathering all the supplies he needs, from spider eyes to redstone dust to melons. The book mentions various items he's never even heard of before, however, like glowstone and nether wart. Luckily, Herobrine has intimate knowledge of where to obtain such items, and had retrieved them. It hadn't been hard for Steve to conclude that these items resided in the Nether, a realm he's only ever read about.

Potion making is something he's always wanted to try but never got around to tinkering with. He's always in the need for more diamonds and iron, after all, so mining takes up a vast majority of his time. But lately he's been feeling adventurous, and finally he decides to try his luck at brewing. He's heard the benefits these potions wielded are worth the amount of time it takes to make them.

"Okay," he says. "So I take these," he places three bottles of water on the three slots at the bottom of the stand. "And then I take this," he skims his notes a bit, making sure he understands correctly, "and just touch the rod with it?" He does so, and the moment the nether wart makes contact with the blaze rod it dissolves into dust in his hand, and the rod changes colors from yellow to a dark red. "Wow," Steve says, fascinated. How the ancient humans had figured this out is beyond him.

From his spot on the stairs Herobrine rolls his eyes. Humans are so easily entertained.

Steve watches as the blaze rod slowly returns to normal, a heat emanating from it as the nether wart is drained into the three bottles. His notes say that once the rod becomes yellow again, the potion is ready for the next step.

"Is it done?" He asks. "It looks the same as before."

"Yes, it is done," Herobrine answers, unable to help himself. Maybe a little help will be alright.

"That's weird," Steve mutters. Now he has to decided what potion he wants to make. One in particular catches his attention. A potion of invisibility, which requires a golden carrot and a fermented spider eye. He has one eye at the ready, so he decides to go with that one.

There are three golden carrots in the pile of stuff next to him. He grabs one and, with instructions from his notes, chops the carrot into little bits before putting it into one of the bottles. The liquid inside instantly started bubbling, like it's being heated, and darkens in color just barely. When the bubbling stops he, with some reluctance, squeezes the spider eye over the bottle, making sure to get the juice into the liquid. A sizzling sound accompanies the change this time, the dark blue color lightening to a light gray. According to his notes, he now has one potion of invisibility.

"I must congratulate you for making a successful first potion," Herobrine says, clapping in a way that is, by no means, sarcastic. He is slightly impressed, though; he's been witness to many potion failures, often with disastrous results. And on one or two occasions those fails had been his fault but hey, a guy has to have fun, right?

"So it'll work?" Steve asks. Despite following the instructions, he doesn't know if he wants to test the potion himself, especially since he has to drink it. What if he's done something wrong and the potion ends up poisoning him? That's something that can happen, right? "Would you mind testing it?" Steve asks. He wants to know if the potion works, but he doesn't want to die.

"I suppose there's no harm in that," Herobrine says, utterly failing at keeping himself out of the process. Knowing that the potion will work without a problem, he takes it from Steve and downs its content. A second later he disappears from sight.

"It works!" Steve crows. This opens up a whole new world for him! There are potions of strength, potions of healing—there's even a potion that would let him breath underwater! But wait...

"How long does it last for?" He asks. He jumps, startled, when he hears Herobrine's voice off to the side, not in front of him where he's expecting.

"It depends on the potion. The one you just made should only last a few minutes before wearing off, but its effects can be lengthened to almost ten minutes by using redstone."

"Wow, this is so cool." Steve turns back to the brewing stand. The other two potions are still sitting there, and he decides to try the same potion again, this time with a longer effect. He repeats the carrot and spider eye steps, consulting his notes along the way, just to be safe. According to them and like Herobrine mentioned, redstone adds time to the potion's effects while glowstone increases the potion's power. He picks up a palm full of redstone dust and deposits an equal amount into both potions. They crackle for only a moment before returning to normal.

"Why don't you try making a splash potion?" Herobrine suggests. He smiles a bit in amusement when Steve jumps, as he is still invisible. "All you need is gunpowder." Though they are friends, he doesn't feel bad about what he has planned.

"A splash potion? Hmm," Steve hums as he reads through his notes. A splash potion, according to them, does not need to be drunk, but can instead be thrown and will supply the same effect. Handy if he wants to poison someone, or heal quickly with an instant health or regeneration potion. "Okay, just add gunpowder?" He asks at large, dropping a handful into one of the potions. The bottles starts shaking violently for a few seconds before calming. He lifts it to his face to examine it. It doesn't look any different.

"Do you still wish for me to test it for you?" Herobrine asks from...somewhere. Steve can't be sure where the guy is, not when the invisibility potion's effects are still active.

"I...yeah, I guess." Steve holds out the bottle, fascinated when it seemingly lifts from his hand all on its own. But just as it leaves his grasp it is flung through the air towards his feet. He can't run quick enough to escape of the liquid bursts from the bottle and coats his clothing. It's quickly absorbed into his skin and clothes.

"Ah! What was that for!?" He yells, shocked. He can only hear laughter, however, as Herobrine is still invisible. "And how are you still invisible? Does the potion really last for that long?"

"It will wear off any moment now," Herobrine supplies, and already Steve can see his image slowly fade back to opacity. There's a wicked smile on his face. "Your potion, however, will last for much longer."

"So you can't see me?" Steve smiles, an idea forming in his head. Time for pay back.

"...No."

Steve stifles his laughter as he slowly walks toward Herobrine, who is looking at the door, on the opposite side of the room. He's just about to act when Herobrine suddenly turns and catches his hand, just as it was about to startle him.

"What!" Steve gapes, eyes wide in disbelief and voice laced with disappointment. "How did you do that, you said you couldn't see me!"

Herobrine lets him go. "Just because you are invisible doesn't mean I cannot sense your presence. You give me far too little credit, my friend."

Steve's shoulders slump. "You're no fun."

"On the contrary," Herobrine says, walking over to the brewing stand. Curious, Steve follows behind. "I will show you something that I often did when I was bored."

Herobrine proceeds to make a different potion, this one involving sugar and glowstone, then gunpowder. The resulting potion is light blue, and instead of throwing it, he gathers all three and goes outside. Steve follows, silent but wondering. They walk around the house, were they find a wild cow eating grass.

"Observe," Herobrine says, and throws one of the potions at the cow's feet. Startled, the cow jumps and takes a step to run away...only to be propelled forward at an abnormally fast speed.

"What the Nether!" Steve says, bubbling laughter rocking his frame as the poor cow struggles with its newfound speed. It settles for running in circles until it tires itself out, choosing then to slump to the ground, mooing tiredly. Herobrine watches as Steve laughs and feels a wave of peace wash over him. Is this what having friends is like? How much did he miss in his rage and hate driven past?

"Let's go," Herobrine says, turning back towards the house. "I'll show you how to make some more potions."

Wiping the tears from his eyes and still a little giddy from the cow's unfortunate mishap, Steve follows behind his friend, eager to learn more.


	4. Redstone Rage

Twenty minutes ago, it had been funny. An hour ago, it had been downright the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen.

Now, it's just painful to watch.

For the last hour and a half, Steve has sat in the same spot against the side of his house, watching first in gleeful anticipation and then later in sympathy at Herobrine attempting to wire together a "simple" redstone machine. The man now stalks back and forth in front of his broken creation, muttering under his breath what are most likely threats and curses. Herobrine, no matter what he says in rebuttal, does not have much patience with tasks such as this, and that had been made clear the second his machine refused to work correctly for him.

Steve wants to help, and he would have from the beginning, but if Herobrine is clueless when it comes to redstone, Steve is brain dead. He knows it glows and can carry a charge of some sort. That's about the extent of his knowledge.

So Herobrine's attempt has not gone totally in vain, not for Steve at least. Herobrine, despite his growing frustration and agitation, has been in quite the giving mood, answering any question Steve can think up, and not with a glare. He's learned what a dropper is and how it works, as well as information about each of the different types of rails there are. He understands the fine red dust better now, but still doesn't fully grasp the purpose of a repeater or comparator. Thinking about it gets his thoughts in a twist and makes his head hurt.

Steve has to commend Herobrine though. He probably would have given up to figure it out another day, but Herobrine refuses to leave it unfinished.

Steve sighs and shakes his head at Herobrine's stubbornness. He notices the sun going down and knows that Herobrine would rather figure out his mechanism than rest for the night. Ever since Herobrine had forced him to confront the mobs at night, he finds he's not as uncomfortable being out at night. He doesn't feel at home, like Herobrine does, but he doesn't want to run screaming anymore either.

Still, night gets cold.

"Maybe we should try again tomorrow...?" Steve ventures, eyeing the sunset. He turns back to look at Herobrine.

"If you want to retire for the night, do so. I will remain here." Herobrine remains with his back towards him, arms crossed tightly against his chest. His anger is palpable in the air.

"Um...okay, sure," he relents, standing up. "Good luck," he says before retreating into his house to sleep the night away.

He's woken up by an explosion and a loud yell of anger.

He sits up, gasping and scrambling to get out of bed, only to get tangled in the bedsheets. He topples over and nearly knocks himself out, but manages to kick the offending sheets away and run out the door.

He's not sure what to expect, but he can say for sure that it's not the large crater in his front yard. For a moment he's not sure if Herobrine is even still around, but then he hears a long, drawn out sigh coming from within the hole. Taking a few steps forward, he peers down into it, bringing a hand to his mouth in a poor attempt to not laugh.

Herobrine is standing in the center of the crater, the remains of his redstone machine laying in pieces around him. He's covered head to toe in a layer of redstone dust and dirt, the only distinguishable feature about him visible the intense glow of his white eyes. He doesn't look happy.

"Is everything...okay?" Steve asks, hesitant. To him, it's funny and amazing to see Herobrine, of all people, in situations like this, but he knows when to laugh and when to keep it to himself. If Herobrine is truly angry, laughing will only exacerbate his temper.

"No."

Herobrine's suddenly not in the crater and instead standing right next to him, fists clenched tightly together. Without another word he turns and starts stalking into the forest.

"Wait, where are you going!" Steve calls out. Herobrine, not bothering to answer, simply walks away.

Steve huffs and eyes the giant eyesore in front of his house. Well, Herobrine's not going to clean it up, is he? Dang guy.

The rest of the day continues by in a slow, easy pace. Steve fixes the hole, harvests from his farms, and feeds his animals. He then paces about his house, totally not worrying about where Herobrine is or what he could be doing. That definitely doesn't happen.

...Except it does and he stops. Growing up, he never had many friends. Maybe when he was a young boy he had one or two, but he honestly can't remember but it's okay. It's been just him all his life and he's happy, he is. Whether it be mining or farming or fishing or fighting, he can't say he wishes there was someone there with him. In the absence of a good connection with other humans, Steve's always believed that he connects better to nature, but Nether if he can explain why. All he knows is that watching other humans build through the land instead of with it has always disgusted him. How could anyone destroy the natural beauty of their world?

Maybe he's not meant to fit in with them.

Much like Herobrine.

He'd never of thought but he's becoming so...dependent on another person. He doesn't necessarily need Herobrine around, but he wants it. Having someone to talk to, or mine with, or just hang out with, feels right, even if the person in question is someone like Herobrine, who gets angry a lot and is prone to rage induced outbursts. And not to mention his tendency to leave without an explanation.

But Steve knows that Herobrine won't just abandon him, because he fully believes that their friendship actually means something to Herobrine, like it does to him.

So he can't help but worry when night descends and Herobrine isn't back yet. But with no way to contact him and no way of knowing when Herobrine will come back, Steve can do nothing but retire to bed, hoping that tomorrow his friend will return.

He doesn't wake up to an explosion, so that's something. He gets up and pulls his clothes on, worry festering in the back of his head. But he forces himself to eat some breakfast and not run outside to see if Herobrine is back. He can handle being on his own for a short amount of time, he did it all his life after all.

Still, there's a certain amount of anticipation he can feel when he opens the door. And to his surprise and relief, Herobrine is back.

He's standing where the large crater had been previously, the remains of the broken redstone device off to the side. New redstone contraptions lay at his feet, and his attention is directed towards the book in his hands.

Although he desperately wants to say something, he restrains himself, as well as forces himself to walk to Herobrine's side, looking at all the complicated redstone components on the ground.

"...Is everything...okay?" Steve asks. He notices that his friend is no longer covered in redstone and dirt.

"Yes, all is well," Herobrine responds calmly, his tone lacking the anger from yesterday morning. But he leaves it at that.

Steve wants to ask—demand—where he went after storming off into the forest, but he can't force the words out. All that really matters is that his friend is back, and that serves to reinforce his belief that Herobrine finds  _some_  value in their friendship.

"What is all this?" Steve asks. There's a peculiar block in particular that intrigues him. It looks to be made of glass and has a vaguely brownish color to it, or maybe a faint red.

"It's...a surprise, I suppose would be an adequate description."

Steve stops and turns round, eyebrows raised in shock. Did he just hear right? Herobrine's holding the book up higher, blocking the view of his face. If Steve didn't know better, he'd say Herobrine's experiencing something very human right now, namely the hot rush of blood to his cheeks from embarrassment. It's so  _human_  and endearing that Steve can't keep the smile off his face.

"For who?" He asks, though he knows. It's impossible to school his expression into something less telling.

Herobrine pulls the book down and there is indeed the faint remains of a blush, and he doesn't look happy about it, judging by the glare. "Do not play games with me. Who else in the world would I be referring to?"

"Oh right, right," Steve agrees, nodding his head as if he didn't already know. Sometimes he gets a thrill out of being able to act in such a way towards Herobrine. Who else got to say they'd back sassed the guy and lived to tell about it?

He turns back to the assortment. "Seriously, what is all this stuff?"

"That would ruin the surprise."

"Oh wow you were serious. Uh, okay, can you at least tell me where you got it? I was...I mean I wasn't worried when you disappeared yesterday, I'm just curious. Is all."

Herobrine closes the book and faces him fully, and now suddenly Steve wishes he had something to cover his face with. At times like these Steve gets the distinct feeling he's being examined and judged all in one look, and it never ceases to set his teeth on edge, especially under the harsh scrutiny of  _those_  eyes. But then the intensity of his stare diminishes into something softer.

"I apologize if my abrupt absence concerned you at all. I didn't...realize until I'd left that you would most likely worry—needlessly, but I understand it is a human trait I cannot fault you on. To answer your question, I traveled to a distant land to seek the advice of those more practiced in this art."

Steve cocked his head. "Art?"

"Redstone."

"Ah. But you were gone all day  _and_  night. Are these people really that far away?"

"It would take several days worth of travel on horseback in the Nether to reach their home."

"Wha—days!? But that's so far!" Steve exclaims. The distance is nearly enough to blow his mind. As Herobrine had explained to him when they'd first met, the Nether does not work quite like the Overworld. Time and space seem to slip by one another, making it an advantageous but dangerous way to travel. Days of travel in the Nether could equal weeks of travel in the Overworld.

"Yes, and it is for the best. They live isolated because they are not like other humans."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm afraid I cannot say."

Steve rolls his eyes, a smug little grin tugging at his lips. "Why, because it would ruin their lives? Like that's ever stopped you before."

He's rewarded with a rare genuine smile and a chuckle in return. "You are not wrong my friend. But it is not so much that I won't tell you than it is I am physically unable to speak the words. I am bound by an oath even I cannot break."

Steve scratches his head, still trying to comprehend just how far away these people live. "Sounds like some heavy stuff."

"It is indeed."

"So I guess...I'll just...leave you to it then." Steve flashes a quick smile and even puts his hand on Herobrine's shoulder, something he usually would hesitate to do, but it just feels right. "I'm glad you're back."

To his relief Herobrine doesn't shrug his hand off, so that's something. "Again, I apologize for causing you undue stress. But it is nice to know there is a place I am always welcome, and that someone cares for my well-being."

Steve shrugs. "That's what friends are for, right?" He pats Herobrine on the shoulder and returns to his house, eager for his surprise.

It takes strength of will, but Steve manages to not peak outside the house at all, leaving Herobrine to construct his redstone contraption in relative peace.

The day slowly recedes to night, and with the knowledge that his friend is back, Steve sleeps much easier this time around.

Morning comes and goes, and soon Steve finds himself standing in front of his surprise.

"What is it?"

"Why don't you take these," Herobrine instructs, holding out some seeds, "and drop them onto the tilled dirt?"

"Uh, okay?" Steve takes the seeds and does just that. He nearly jumps out of his skin when the dirt raises up with a quick motion, the sound of pistons firing accompanying it. He also hears the click of dispensers, and suddenly there's more seeds and a fully grown piece of wheat laying on the ground.

"What...?" Steve whispers, taking a step back. He spins to face Herobrine, shock clear on his face. "What happened?"

"Why don't you try again?"

With more enthusiasm, Steve takes the seeds and drops them onto the dirt. It repeats its processes and now two pieces of wheat and even more seeds are laying on the ground. "What!"

"I believe they call it an automated farm," Herobrine says as Steve picks up the two pieces of wheat and examines them like they don't actually exist, and he fully expects them to disappear right before his very eyes. But as the seconds tick by nothing happens, and he remains speechless.

"Is it...satisfactory?" Herobrine asks, rather timidly. Steve just looks at him and then the wheat, then back at Herobrine, mouth hanging open as he struggles to find words. Herobrine feels slightly self-conscious for the first time in a long time, and has to ruthlessly suppress the urge to start rambling.

When he opens his mouth to do just that, he's shocked into silence when arms are suddenly thrown around his shoulders and a body is far closer to him than he believes he's comfortable with. He stiffens, unsure how to react.

He's being hugged.

It's something he knows humans do and he's seen them do it far more than he can count. But it's not something he fully understands, and now, experiencing it, he thinks perhaps he knows why humans do it. It's...not unpleasant.

Before he can do anything, Steve is releasing him and turning back to the wheat farm, a wide and excitable smile plastered on his face as he puts seeds in the dirt again and again, marveling over the face that this machine produces wheat at a rate far quicker than a normal wheat farm. Herobrine hopes that with this, some of Steve's burdens of caring for a house, and animals, and farms, is lessened, even if only somewhat.

"Wow...wow! This is amazing!" Steve says, holding an armful of wheat. His whole being is radiating happiness and it's a new experience but Herobrine enjoys seeing his friend so happy—even more so that he's the cause of it.

"I am glad it works." He knows it would, of course, given the very clear and precise instructions in the book.

"I'm going to have so much wheat! I don't even know what I'm going to do with it all."

"That is its function."

"Oh man, I—" Steve stops to take a breath and looks at him. "Thank you. Really."

"You are welcome. Now let's go find a place for all this wheat."

And that's what they do.


	5. We Were Never Welcomed Here(I)

The warm rays of the overhead sun are a welcome comfort as he lounges on Steve's roof. Herobrine doesn't often get time alone, not anymore, and he finds that he's okay with that. Whereas before he scoffed at the very idea of company, now he wishes for it, needs it almost. So much has changed that he's beginning to remember what he was like in the start. He can't recall the last time he terrorized someone just for the Nether of it, and finds he doesn't want to waste his time anyway. Despite living in a secluded area, Steve is quite adept at finding adventure, and Herobrine is content to go along for the ride.

Nearly two hours have gone by since Steve had left for the nearest village. He'd seemed oddly reluctant to go, despite his sociable nature and kind personality. It brings back concerns from previous conversations, where Steve would change the subject anytime a village or other people were brought up. He isn't stupid; obviously something happened in Steve's past to warrant those reactions, however he hasn't the knowledge to speculate on what that may have been. For now he is happy Steve had even agreed to go in the first place.

They had been running dangerously low on supplies, and with a freshly broken diamond pickaxe, finding materials on their own would have been more difficult. Herobrine knows the one thing they have that's relatively useless are emeralds, so he'd suggested trading them for a pick or two. But for obvious reasons, Herobrine can not enter a village himself and expect anyone to trade with him. He can just take the picks with force, but he doesn't want to, something that no longer surprises him. Steve's "goody-two-shoes" nature has rubbed off on him and he's reluctant to revert back to the way he'd been.

He'd never seen a human so unwilling to interact with other humans. In his experiences, they like to group together if anything, finding strength in numbers. Pathetic, but admirable, in a way.

The echo of a voice through the forest alerts him that someone's coming, and by the sound it's not Steve. Since he considers Steve's house his own, he feels a protective flare rise up inside of him. Whoever it is better hope they simply pass by and not try to cause trouble.

Just as the owner of the voice is about to come into view, Herobrine jumps onto the top of a nearby tree, mindful to keep out of sight until absolutely necessary. This task becomes exponentially harder when the unwelcome guest finally comes into view.

It's no doubt a villager, holding a small, empty bag as he talks animatedly with the person next to him. Said person is holding a large pile of iron ingots and even some diamonds in his arms, and his steps almost falter as he struggles with the heavy load. Herobrine can recognize who it is even if he were blind.

It's Steve.

Carrying all those heavy materials without help from the villager next to him. Just the sight is enough to enrage Herobrine, and it takes all of his willpower to not go down there and kill the villager.

But then he notices something troubling and it's all he can focus in on, villager forgotten. The way Steve's walking...it's not right. And it's not just the weight of the ingots and gems in his arms, it looks like he's...injured, or in pain—like it's uncomfortable to walk at all, regardless if he's carrying anything or not.

As Steve and the villager approach the house, Herobrine can finally see Steve's face over the mound of iron, and instantly hot rage flows through his veins.

There's one large bruise on his cheek, and his face is twisted in an expression of discomfort and pain. The villager is oblivious.

They reach the house's threshold and Steve sets the large pile down on the ground as gently as he can, which turns out to be not gentle at all since half way to bending down he sucks in a breath and stands up straight again, the iron and diamonds tumbling to the ground. The villager either doesn't notice or doesn't care and instead says something about payment. Steve, huffing in breaths, enters the house and returns with some emeralds, handing them to the villager who then deposits them into his bag. Without another word the villager turns and leaves.

He's lucky Herobrine is more concerned for Steve, otherwise he'd be dead.

* * *

With heavy breaths, Steve leans against the side of his house, eyes closed as he struggles to breath easy. While not as bad as previous trips to a village, his journey had still been painful and unnecessarily difficult. The only consolation is that it appears Herobrine is absent at the moment. Maybe he'll be able to brew up a quick potion of healing before he returns.

That proves to be impossible when he opens his eyes and sees Herobrine standing directly in front of him, expression hostile. Instead of being surprised, he sighs.

"It's—it's nothing, promise."

With a hardening glare Herobrine takes a deliberate step forward, not at all surprised when Steve nearly trips backwards, hands unconsciously crossing over his stomach in a protective grasp. Herobrine doesn't miss what that entails.

"I can hear the lie in the beats of your heart. Do not think me a fool."

Steve's weak and undoubtedly half-hearted protest is cut off when Herobrine takes another step forward and reaches for the bottom of Steve's shirt, intent to find the truth. Steve doesn't fight back, or try to get away, instead surrendering in a way that is uncharacteristic and disturbing of him. But Herobrine sees why when he moves Steve's arms out of the way and lifts the shirt.

There is a large, ugly bruise covering the delicate expanse of skin on Steve's stomach. The damage must have been dealt severely for there are a motley of dark reds, purples, and blues, all painting the same picture of assault. He looks on through shock, then disgust and a rising sense of black-out rage. The heavy, wheezed breathing and slouched posture indicate even more unseen damage.

"What happened?" He asks, deadly calm and serious. He lets go of the shirt, allowing Steve to smooth it carefully over his stomach, concealing the damning evidence. "Who did this?"

"N-no one, I—"

"Do not lie to me, Steven!"

Startled and afraid after the trauma he's just endured, Herobrine's outburst makes him tense up. He feels sudden, extreme nausea crash over him and he doubles over, falling onto his knees as his body jerks violently with the force of his retches. When he pries his eyes open he sees through tears red beneath him, too much red, and when he looks up it's into impossible, burning white and then there's darkness.

* * *

When he opens his eyes it's to a blurry ceiling and large blobs of colors hovering over him. Through the intense sense of rolling nausea and a pounding headache he can hear words being spoken, but they are unintelligible. The colors move away from his sight and he shuts his eyes.

When he opens his eyes for the second time the world is less a blur of mismatched colors and much more sharply in focus. The headache is still there, but the queasiness of his stomach is gone, thankfully. There's also a strange numbness around his midsection. Despite it, he manages to struggle himself into a sitting position. He's in his house, on his bed. There's no one else in the room.

He looks down and notices he's shirtless, but more than that the skin of his stomach is smooth and unblemished, not at all like how he remembers. He marvels at it, gingerly touching where previously, large painful bruises had resided.

He remembers going into town and the fear that weighted heavy on him. Villages had always been a source of anxiety for him, and for this exact reason. This isn't the first time he'd been attack and it unfortunately won't be the last.

He gasps as he remembers that this time, he's not alone in his little house, and the worst possible person has discovered his secret. If it'd been anyone else he wouldn't worry so much. Given that they were merciless and hadn't spared him, he knows he should want them to suffer at Herobrine's hands, but he also knows that their actions had been irrational and born out of fear. But he doesn't want them punished for it, especially by the very being they fear so. It will only feed a cycle of hatred that seems, now more than ever, never ending.

Groaning, he rubs his hands over his face, tired and sore. He moves over to the side of the bed and rests his hands on his knees. There's a wad of cloth on the floor near his bed, and when his curiosity becomes too much to resist, he gets up and grabs it. Upon closer inspection, he recognizes it as his shirt. It's ripped down the middle, as if someone had torn it straight from his body. It doesn't take a genius to know who could have done it.

_Oh, where are you, Herobrine?_

* * *

He doesn't know what he expects, but it's not waiting for several hours, alone in his house. After changing into a new shirt, he'd sat back on his bed, unwilling to leave the safety of his house. He'd made it far away from any villages for a reason, and that's so he can live peacefully without worrying about being griefed. Or killed.

When he'd woken, the sun had been just about to rise. Now, the sun is well beyond the horizon. Most of the day he'd spent lost in his thoughts, the ripped shirt laying across his lap. Despite not having moved all day, a wave of tiredness, matched by a rising ache in his body, makes his eyelids heavy. He doesn't remember falling asleep.

Consciousness returns suddenly. The door opening is the cause of his sudden alertness, and he sits up, wincing at the uncomfortable ache from sleeping awkwardly on his side. He pushes that away, however, when finally face to face with Herobrine.

He's not covered in blood, so that's a good sign. He doesn't look any different than normal, expect perhaps more angry. It's obvious in the way he's glaring and how tight his fists are clenched at his side.

Steve wants to say something, and opens his mouth to do so, but he finds he doesn't know what to say. He closes his mouth and swallows, oddly ashamed as he fiddles with the shirt still on his lap. He notices how Herobrine's gaze focuses on the shirt in his hands.

Still without a word, Herobrine comes up to him and takes a hold of it. Silenced by the heavy presence filling his small house, Steve allows Herobrine to yank the shirt out of his grasp. As soon as he has it, Herobrine ignites the weak cloth, which burns quickly to ashes. He then wipes his hands together and grabs a chair, spinning it around so its facing Steve on the bed. Herobrine sits down and stares at him.

Under such intense scrutiny, Steve averts his own eyes, staring down at his hands, which he twists together in loo of the shirt.

"I want you to explain to me why it happened." Herobrine finally says, his voice low and controlled. Steve glances up, a distressed expression flitting across his face.

"...But—"

"Explain."

His nails dig into his palms. He's reluctant. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he knows that angering Herobrine further won't be wise and most likely end with the truth coming out anyway. Better to have this on his terms.

"Okay," he sighs, rubbing his arms. He feels cold, and whatever had been making him numb has worn off during sleep. The dull, pulsing ache centered on his stomach is distracting, but he gathers his thoughts through it. "Okay.

I don't remember much of when I was little. My village was located at the base of a large mountain, and travelers would always stop there to trade and rest.

Everything was okay, in the beginning. I remember playing with the other kids, and when I was really young the other villagers would smile at me and my friends as we tried to get free goodies. I think it was because of my father why the villagers were so nice. He was our village's greatest miner, always able to find ores we needed quickly. He organized the mines we had so well that even us children could find iron or gold. He made sure it was safe too.

But his status in the village wasn't enough to protect me forever. The adults tolerated me, but travelers reacted badly. I remember one group leaving the village without trading anything because a "demon" lived there. That was the first time I heard that word, but not the last.

Because I was so young, I didn't fully understand what was happening. All I knew was that the older I got, the less travelers stayed at any of our inns, or traded with our vendors."

He pauses, swallowing to wet his dry throat. He stares at his hands as he continues.

"My parents never explained to me what was happening. I could tell they knew something but every time I asked why the other kids were never allowed to play with me or why the other adults would glare at me, they made excuse after excuse, as if they were trying to protect the village and not me." Unbidden, a sudden harshness taints the tone of his voice. "Not much good it did them. My best guess is that they were trying to keep the villagers happy to prevent them from outright attacking me.

Because of their choice of not telling me the truth I grew apart from them. I loved them still but I knew I was alone in my village. I think I was...eight maybe? But I knew I had to leave, with or without my parents."

He takes a deep breath.

"They burned our house down. I guess they were tired of the "demon" driving away all their business. I couldn't find my parents through the smoke, and when I made it out of the house their was a mob of people waiting for me, all holding either a sword or some tool. They told me I wasn't welcome there, and that if I wanted to live I should leave. So I did, and never looked back."

There's a silence where he expects Herobrine to say something, but as time ticks by and he remains silent, Steve continues.

"I encountered the same hostility at the next village and the one after that. I was just a kid and yet...they would have killed me if I hadn't of left, I know it. But one village had a kind librarian, an older woman who'd traveled the world at one point. She let me stay with her for a little bit. And she finally told me why everyone reacted poorly when they saw me. My clearest memory is her showing me this...I think she called it a tablet. She'd said she'd found it in the ruins of a desert temple, and that it's brethren told the story of the Nether Demon. When I saw the image painted onto the sandstone, I thought for a second it was  _me._  But she explained it was someone else, someone who the people feared greatly, enough to kill a child who simply looked like him."

It still disgusts him.

They sit in silence again, Herobrine staring hard at Steve and Steve staring down at his hands. The clock ticks on the wall.

"Did you hate me?"

Steve looks up sharply, seeing Herobrine's carefully controlled expression of repressed rage and, surprisingly, guilt. He shakes his head.

"Maybe at first. But seeing that tablet ignited the adventurer spirit inside me. I wanted to find out more, about both your legend and the world in general, so she gave me an iron sword, a stone pickaxe, some food, and I set off to explore the world."

"Where did you go?"

"At first I didn't know where to go or what to do, only that I wanted it to be far, far away from villages. That desire eventually lead me to jungles and deserts, where I explored temples and ruins. And where I encountered more tablets with the mysterious man who looked like me. It was actually during one of those jungle adventures that I found this place. I had seen the village in my journey through the jungle, and when I came out of it, I saw this perfect area where the biomes met. And if I ever did need the services of a village, there was one relatively close by. And then I met you and now...here we are." He shrugs.

The sun is high in the sky now. Steve finds that his breathing is heavier than it'd been when he started his tale. All this talking has him winded, and he wonders if his healed skin hides something worse behind it. Vomiting blood, after all, is not a good sign of health. As it is he can barely bring himself to lift off the bed.

"You should rest now," Herobrine says softly, watching him still. He would probably be able to see through any of Steve's claims of wellness.

"Yeah, that—" he yawns, rubbing a hand across his face. "That sounds like a good idea." It feels like his energy's been zapped right out of his body. His stomach is sore and achy where the villagers had kicked him, and his throat is burning from retching. He struggles to get under the covers and sighs once settled.

"I will be here when you wake."

It's the last thing he hears before he slips into oblivion.

* * *

_The air feels heavy and oppressive. It's hard to breath and dark and he's scared. There's a chill in the air and he shivers, clutching his arms together across his chest to preserve warmth._

_It's impossible to see more than a few blocks in front of him, and the floor is hard and unforgiving and he stumbles his way through the darkness._

_His breath clouds his vision, a testament to how cold it is. He's wearing only his normal attire, a light short sleeved shirt and jeans, and he really wishes he had more on._

_He walks for a long time without a sense of direction. At first he thinks he's walking in circles, and then he doesn't know what to think as nothing changes the farther he goes on. It's just an endless amount of darkness._

_There's a faint whisper and he spins around, eyes searching hopelessly in the darkness. "Hello?" His voice echoes. After a minute of standing there, he turns back around and keeps walking._

" _Demon."_

" _Hello!" He calls again. He definitely heard something this time._

_With again no response, he keeps walking. There are no more whispers._

_Something changes. There's a wall of in front of him now, and he puts his hand on the cold stone. "Great," he mutters, turning back around._

_There's a wall in front of him._

" _...What?" He whispers, shocked. How...how is this possible? He'd just come from that direction after walking forever!_

_He runs up to the wall and slams his hands against it, hoping against hope that the wall isn't real. But it remains solid against the onslaught of his strikes._

_Looking left and then right, he starts shaking when he realizes he's trapped in a small room, and with no pickaxe to aid him, he's stuck._

"Demon!"

"Die!"

"Monster! How could you!"

"Unwanted."

"Unloved."

"Weak!"

"Leave us alone, can't you see you're not welcome here!"

"What did we ever do to you!"

"You don't deserve to be alive!"

_A cacophony of harsh whispers assault his ears, deafening in their loudness. He covers his ears, whimpering as they don't stop, they don't stop! Why don't they stop, it's not his fault!_

" _Steve! Wake up!"_

_It...it's not...his...fault..._

" _Steve!"_

* * *

With a gasp he sits up in bed, breath stuttering through his chest. He can feel a hand on his shoulder and flinches, wrapping his arms around his knees. The hand leaves.

"Are you alright?" Comes a quiet question and Steve just breaths, keeping his head down for a few more moments before answering.

"Ye—Yeah. Yeah I am," he says, his voice wavering. It barely sounds convincing to his own ears.

He knows Herobrine wants to know what happened, but he just needs a little bit of time to himself right now. But Herobrine only sits back down in his chair and waits for Steve to start speaking on his own. It takes several minutes for him to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he starts with, turning his face to be able to look at Herobrine. His face is impassive.

"Do not be. You experienced a nightmare, did you not?"

"Yeah."

"Do you...wish to speak about it?" Herobrine says, his expression unsure now.

Steve says nothing and merely looks at Herobrine. His friend. His friend who has helped him and understands him and how could he not? They are so similar in things such as this. Just two men—brothers, alone in the world with no one but each other for company. And now Herobrine, who used to despise and resent humans so much, is attempting to offer him comfort despite how unnatural it must seem to him.

A small smile comes to his face and he sighs, finally getting his breathing back under control. "Thank you."

Herobrine looks confused. "For what?"

Steve moves to sit on the edge of the bed, hands folded on his lap. "For just being here."

"You are welcome." For the first time since they've been sitting here, Herobrine looks away from him. "I...there's something I wish to tell you. You have opened up to me and told me your past. Now I want to tell you mine."


	6. We Were Never Welcomed Here At All (II)

Steve doesn't dare move.

He stares in disbelief and a little anticipation at Herobrine, who is still not looking him in the eye, something Steve rarely thinks ever happens. Herobrine does not often get "shy," if that is even an adequate word. Herobrine takes pride in controlling his emotions.

Still, seeing the legend like this is thrilling, even more so given his words. Will he finally get to know Herobrine's past?

The silence between them isn't uncomfortable but he breaks it all the same. "Are you sure? I mean, I get telling you my past considering what happened, and yeah, maybe I should have told you a long time ago. But that's different. You don't have to tell me anything, I understand that your past is a lot more complicated than mine."

When Herobrine looks at him again, there's an odd sort of confused expression on his face. "How do you know this?" He says, eyes narrowed.

"When I left that town, you know, the one with the nice librarian?" Herobrine nods and he continues. "Well, after I left, I didn't know where to go. I was only a kid, after all, and I didn't know the first thing about surviving in the world. I'd always had the comfort of a family to care for me. But now that I was suddenly all alone in the world, it didn't take long for me to realize I didn't know the first thing about really living. Eventually I learned how to make a fire and furnaces for my food and all that.

But one time, when I was crossing a small expanse of desert, I finally saw a desert temple off in the distance. At first I'd thought maybe it'd be an illusion, but sure enough when I approached, it was real. I heard stories about temples, and the traps that were hidden in their depths, so I was careful when exploring. The loot at the bottom was easy to collect, but that wasn't what I was interested in. It was the walls, and the paintings and carvings." Steve much more enjoyed speaking of his adventures than he did of what lead him to them. Part of his past he really hated. Part of it he absolutely loved, and that was obvious in the way his whole face lit up when talking about it.

"Finally I could study more of the mysterious legend who ruined my life." He says it with an airy laugh but Herobrine's expression turns guilty and unsure. Steve smiles and shakes his head. "Don't worry. I was much more interested in the legend itself than what it was doing to me. After all, nothing bad happened so long as I stayed away from other people, and that was hard at first, but I got used to it."

"That does not excuse what happened to you, nor does it validate my actions in the past."

"But you didn't know. How could you? Did you know someone who looked like you would be born into the world?"

"...No."

"Then it's okay. I forgive you."

Herobrine stares at Steve, this singularly extraordinary human being who is so selfless and kind. How did he ever manage to trick this human into friendship? He certainly doesn't deserve such kindness.

"Well, I'm sure you've been to plenty of temples, right?" Steve continues his story. "So I don't need to tell you about your own legend written on the walls in them. But it fascinated me. I couldn't read the words, but I could understand the story through the pictures. And I felt bad for you." Steve's smile fades to a small frown. "According to them, you were sent to the Nether, right? You didn't go there by choice."

Herobrine sighs. "You are correct, I did not."

"Why?"

"...I don't remember much of the my life in the beginning. One day I woke up. And like you, I was a simple man trying to survive. I made farms, I mined, I did all that I could, but for what purpose? I searched for other people, someone like myself to explain who I was and what I was for. But there was no one. Now, of course, I know that I was the first human created by Notch."

Steve gasps. "Really?"

"Indeed," Herobrine nods, his eyes narrowing as he stares at the wall. "Despite such an...'honor,' Notch did not show himself to me. In a newly created land, I was his sole living creation, and yet he ignored me." He could feel his rage and hate for Notch building, and he clenches his fists in a poor attempt at keeping control. "But I lived. I  _thrived_  in that world, alone though I was. I did not need the help or guidance of some absentee God to give my life purpose.

So I explored. I climbed the highest mountains and I dived into the deepest depths of the ocean. I mined to bedrock and I touched the clouds. And on the one day that changed everything, Notch finally showed himself.

You might be surprised to know that Notch does not look the role he plays. He does not adorn himself in diamond armor, or carry diamond tools. No, he has the appearance of a simple man. And when I saw him for the first time, I did not know it was him. How could I, for at that time I did not even know I had been created by someone else. As far as I was concerned, I was the only living thing on the vast landscape I occupied.

But he told me, I'll never forget, he said he was sorry for leaving me to myself, and told me that I was no longer alone in the world. And then he left. You might think he meant that there were humans in the world, but he did not mean other humans, he meant the mobs you see at night. He chose to populate the world with hostile creatures designed to kill! And he didn't warn me about them!" He's practically yelling at this point, beyond rational thought. Merely thinking about that period of time in his life is enough to spiral him into a blood-fueled rage. But Steve's presence here is like a balm over his searing emotions. He retains control and focuses on breathing through the intense hate threatening to undue all that he has worked to correct. He is not  _that_ Herobrine anymore, he is not the killer from the legend.

After just breathing for a few moments, he has enough stability to continue.

"I died," he forced through grit teeth. "One of those infernal skeletons shot me in the back. It was an...interesting experience. I don't remember much of it other than the fact that Notch showed himself once again." He snorts in disgusts. "How lucky, to have not one but two visits from the mighty Creator. I remember him speaking but not what he said, and the next thing I knew I was alive again, waking up in the same spot as the first time."

"You were...brought back to life?" Steve asks in clarification, expression coated in disbelief. Herobrine nods. "Yes. He brought me back to life. And that singular action ruined me.

Humans do not take well to living again after death, and you need only look at the mindless zombies that wander the world at night to know I speak truth. They lose their minds, and that is what happened to me. It was a slow process that stripped me of my most basic of senses and instincts. It got to the point where the hostile mobs ignored my presence, most likely thinking me one of them. But of course, where was Notch when this was happening? Living his life peacefully in the Aether, that's where! Ignoring his own creation's need for help!

And when he finally got around to creating more humans, those stupid worthless villagers you see, I snapped. I killed every villager I came across, and I enjoyed it."

"Herobrine!"

He's startled by the loud yell, and notices for the first time he's smiling. He can see Steve staring at him, but he can't understand why the miner is backed up fully on the bed, nor why the man is in a defensive position. He realizes belatedly that he is standing, and much closer to Steve than he remembers being.

"Calm down," Steve says carefully, like any more sudden moves might provoke him into attacking. It's a disturbing thought—he'd never hurt his friend, not anymore. "You're starting to scare me."

Oh.

Herobrine backs up slowly, almost in a daze. "I...must ask for your forgiveness. I did not...I—"

"It's okay," Steve says reassuringly, moving back to the edge of the bed. "I know you didn't mean anything. I can understand that this subject must be hard for you to talk about. Like I said earlier, you don't have to tell me any more."

"I am...well enough to continue." Herobrine insists, sitting back down. He would never admit it, but he's scared that his rage is enough to cause blackouts. It is an unhealthy attribute he's always remembered having.

"After...after the villagers, Notch came to me again, for the third and final time. He said that though I was special to him, as his first creation, he would not tolerate my disregard for other human lives, nor my actions against them. As you might imagine, I was not in my right mind, and could not respond beyond attempting the impossible and trying to kill him. I remember him saying he was sorry that he had to destroy me and his frustration at having to try to make the perfect human being once more. And after that I remember a blinding light." He's quiet for a few seconds. "This is when I was truly born, as you see me now. His attempt to destroy me backfired and instead gave me powers of the Gods. I do not know why, or how, but at that point I did not care. My memories of this time are sharp and focused, and the first thing I did was attack him, as I had every right to. When he fled, I roamed the world, making the humans and mobs alike suffer my wrath. Why had they been allotted normal, health lives while I had to go through the Nether and back to simply exist? I was...angry at them for something they could not control, but I didn't care. I still—I still find it hard to pardon them, even though I know they are innocent."

"So that's why you attack people? Because you feel they wronged you?"

"Yes. The paintings and the carvings on the temple walls are not a deception. They are accurate. I did attack and kill innocent humans, and eventually Notch and the other Gods had had enough. They created the Nether, together, and banned me to its fiery depths for what they thought and hoped would be eternity. But I would not so easily be forgotten. Sending me to the Nether was their second biggest mistake, aside from deciding to create me. I created the mobs there, so that if they ever returned they would be turned against. Unlike the Overworld mobs, these stronger, advanced mobs would not cower in their presence nor stop trying to attack them. I eventually gathered enough power to transcend worlds and thus developed the ability to teleport, both freely and in between dimensions, not unlike an enderman. After that, they were forced to deal with my permanent presence in the world, and to this day I've yet to have encountered them again. But what I have encountered is another of Notch's creations, a second attempt at the human he wanted me so badly to be."

"Really? Who was it?" Steve asks. Herobrine's past is undoubtedly horrific. Since learning of Herobrine's existence in the library when he was a child, he'd never thought the legend was completely true, for he did not believe in 'pure evil,' as Herobrine was so often referred to as. Everyone—Herobrine, the villagers who attack him— _everyone_  has good in them. Sometimes it's just a matter of believing hard enough.

At his question, Herobrine smiles a small smile. "A young miner named Steve."

Steve gasps once again. "Really? No way."

"Truly, there is no mistaking our physical similarity. Though the Gods' power has corrupted my appearance in some ways, we remain like mirror images of each other. Surely you didn't think it a coincidence?"

Steve shrugs. "Maybe? How could I know?"

He allows his smile to grow. He's so thankful to have met this human. It is a blessing he doesn't deserve but hordes close nonetheless. Nothing will ever happen to separate him from his friend, that's something he will make sure of.

"No, when we met that day it was not by chance. The world is a large place, Steve. The chances of us meeting, especially where we were, is very small. But I believe it is fate that brought us together."

"You do?"

"Yes. Being around you is helping me. Slowly but surely, you are healing the damaged bits of my soul, returning me the person I once was. It is a slow process, but made all the better by your presence."

Steve wraps his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest. "Dude, I'm just being myself."

"That is all I can ask of you."

* * *

An seemingly old man stands just outside a house, sadness in his eyes but warmth in his heart as he stares through the window at the oblivious occupants inside. He never would have believed Herobrine capable of such kindness as he has shown Steven, but he is pleasantly surprised. When Steve was born he desperately wished they would never meet, and had hoped that Steve would resent Herobrine for being the source of his troubles, but now...now, he would never dare separate them. Maybe, in the future, he will show himself to Herobrine for the fourth time, and they can meet not as enemies, but as friends.

He disappears in a flash, assured that his greatest creation is safe under the care of his greatest regret.


	7. Two Skilled Adventurers

The grand plains of the desert stand before him. Its vastness never ceases to amaze him. Its always been breathtaking in its beauty; like every biome, he finds in himself a deep seated urge to explore, to find everything it has to offer.

Still, it's also daunting. Such a large area of desert guarantees his journey to be long and arduous, especially since the sun is only just starting to come up. But as he knows all to well, the desert is even more dangerous at night. There's such a long line of sight for mobs to see, any traveler who wishes to traverse a desert must do so before the sun goes down.

Of course, he no longer has that problem.

"Are you sure you're ready? You're not even bringing anything!"

His friend stares at him like he's lost his mind. "Need I remind you who I am? What would make you believe I need anything for this journey?"

"Well...I don't know," Steve says, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. "Water? A sword?"

Utterly silent, Herobrine holds both his hands out. Particles like he's seen around endermen and Nether portals appear around them, and when they clear, he's holding a diamond sword in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. In another flash of particles, they're gone. "Is that sufficient?"

"I guess. Show off," he adds with a mutter, but he knows Herobrine can hear him, and he knows this in the way Herobrine nudges his shoulder playfully on his way towards the desert. That "playful" nudge nearly sends him toppling over, the weight of his bag off balancing him. He corrects himself with a withering glare at Herobrine, but there's no heat to it.

He catches up to his friend, and they begin their search for a desert temple.

When Herobrine had suggested they explore the desert, Steve had jumped at the opportunity. The only biome he had thoroughly explored before building his house had been the jungle, which he'd emerged from to find the perfect place for a home. However, he'd never found the jungle temple, nor had he had the time to search in the neighboring biomes for any secrets. He'd had every intention to, but a certain legend had barreled into his life and put exploring on hold.

Now he's eager to get going again. He'd always let the wind tell him where to go, or let the allure of the unexplored pull him in. It's never failed him.

He misses finding abandoned mineshafts while caving. That first rush of realization is always such a thrill, and thoroughly exploring the previously unexplored makes a deep seated feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment rise within him. It's something he loves and wouldn't trade for all the diamonds in the world.

And now, getting the chance to explore with Herobrine, of all possible people...he can just barely contain his excitement. In the months that he and Herobrine have been friends, he's seen the legend do some pretty crazy stuff. He's anticipating seeing some of that during this exploration.

As they walk farther and farther into the desert, Steve periodically takes sips from his water bottles, while Herobrine carries on, seeming unfazed by the intense heat. After glancing at him a few times in wonderment, Steve finally asks what's on his mind.

"How do you stay so...normal in this heat?" He asks, wiping his hand across his forehead. He's no stranger to exploring deserts but this heat is a real killer.

"I spent decades of my life trapped in the hell fire realm that is the Nether."

Steve's speechless at such an incredibly blunt response, mouth hanging open. Herobrine glances over his shoulder and stops walking, allowing Steve to catch up from where he had stopped walking. "What's wrong?"

"Dude! You can't just say that and act like nothing happened!"

"I don't see why not? Why, is there something wrong with that? I can think of nothing."

"There's nothing wrong it's just...you took that question super literally," Steve says as he drops his bag from his shoulders, allowing sweet relief to flow through them. He wishes he didn't need to pack so much but previous outings have taught him well that it's better to be over prepared than dead. "Can we take a break?"

"When we have only just begun?" Herobrine asks, looking to the sun for the time. It has not yet reached overhead.

"But it's  _hot_ ," Steve totally doesn't complain as he pulls out a water bottle.

"Is it?" Herobrine muses, "I hadn't noticed."

Steve glares over the rim of his water bottle, fully aware that the smug little grin on Herobrine's face means he knows exactly how hot it is. Curse him for being a master at manipulation. But Steve's learning.

"Yeah I'm sure," he mumbles, then louder, "Do you already know where a temple is by chance?"

Herobrine hums and turns slowly in a circle, keen eyes scanning the horizon. "I don't believe so. I do not stay long in one area and had no intention of staying here until we crossed paths."

Steve sighs and stretches before pulling his pack back onto his shoulder. "Well, that's okay. Half the fun in these trips, in my experience, is finding the dang places. Let's go."

They walk on, that vast sandy landscape a beautiful and deadly sight as they pass by. At one point Steve almost thinks he's spotted a temple, but when they venture farther that way they discover a small desert village, most likely there to welcome travelers and offer them relief from the heat. Steve shivers at the sight of other people and unconsciously moves closer to Herobrine, who glares in disgust at the village. They turn the opposite direction and continue on.

The sun has just finished cresting overhead when they find a temple at last, shortly after stopping to eat some lunch. The unfortunate find of a village is long forgotten in Steve's mind as excitement takes over, filling ever last inch of his being. This is why he loves exploring. He nearly trips over his own feet and the sand as he runs towards it. Herobrine follows behind at a much more relaxed and controlled pace.

Upon entering the temple, Steve sets his bag down gently—respectively—and scans the walls for the real prize hidden in plain sight: the carvings and paintings on the wall. He's a little disappointed when he can't spot the familiar blue and white figure he's come to associate with Herobrine.

"Well that's a shame..." he mutters to himself as he inspects the wall in more detail. In fact, there seems to be a distinct lack of pictures. Instead, the walls are covered in strange symbols, which is a shame because he can't understand them, and uses the pictures to try and decipher what the walls describe. With no pictures, he utterly clueless as to what secrets the carvings could be hiding.

"Interesting," Herobrine says next to him, and Steve jumps in surprise, having not heard him enter the structure. He puts a hand on his chest, over his heart, and catches his breath.

"What is?"

"The collection of words on the walls. They tell an interesting story."

"You can read that?"

"Of course," Herobrine says, voice full of pride. "It is simple."

"Well what does it say?" Steve asks excitedly. He hadn't thought that Herobrine, who has been alive for such a long time, might be able to read the words. In hindsight, perhaps he should have anticipated this.

"It appears to be describing the tale of a young hero who went around the land and helped the people in a time of great hardship. I remember this young hero."

"You do?"

"Yes. If my memory serves, I had just created the Dragon of the End and let it loose upon the Overworld. But with the help of the Aether Gods that mortal sealed my dragon in the End. I have not yet discovered a way to free it."

"Wow," Steve marvels. "I had no idea that even happened." How much history did they—humans—truly know anyway? If the tales of the past are written on walls of ancient structures in a language humans now cannot read, how much of the past can be told?

"It is not a tale I find often, despite the impact it had on the world," Herobrine says.

"How did he do it?"

"The young hero? It was a female. She had been raised as a warrior in a stronghold, when they had been populated by humans. Her courageous heart and pure spirit called to the power of the Gods, and they responded by blessing her with the ability to seal my beast in a newly created dimension, which I believe had originally been created for me, so that I may never return to the Overworld. And after that, she went from village to village, helping fix the destruction that had happened."

"What happened to her?"

"What do you think? I killed her."

Sometimes the ease with which Herobrine can say things like that frightens him. "Just like that?"

"Indeed. She was a force for good and so had to be eliminated."

"Didn't you feel bad?"

Herobrine sighs and looks at Steve. "You remember, do you not? I felt...anger towards humans, and hate. What care should I have if they live or die, when all I wanted then was destruction? It has been so long that I do not feel bad for what I did, although, with clarity, I can say that I was perhaps...brutal, in my actions. It is different for me now; with your help I find myself less inclined to take my frustrations out on humans."

"That's...all that really matters now, I guess," Steve responds, moving over to his pack. He pulls out a torch and drags it quickly over a nearby pillar, lighting the tip. He lays it near the blue stained clay in the center of the floor. Striking up another torch, he hands this one to Herobrine, who is watching him and still standing next to the wall. A third torch is lit and he sets this one down by his bag as he searches for an iron pickaxe. When he finds it, he walks towards the stained clay pattern on the floor, where he knows treasure hides underneath. "Might as well loot the place," he comments. With one mighty swing the blue block breaks.

He hears the sound of TNT being ignited and only has time to react briefly before arms encircle his waist and forcefully spin him around.

A loud  _BOOM!_  shakes the temple, and the force of it pushes them roughly into a wall. Steve's quick thinking of using his arms to shield himself from the impact with the wall saves his head from a bashing, but his arms will most likely be bruised for several days. When the dust settles and there aren't any more explosions, the arms release him and he's free to turn around.

Herobrine's face is annoyed and slightly pained. Over his shoulder, Steve can see a large hole where the floor he'd just been standing on had been and is now gone, smoke still lingering in the air. He looks back to Herobrine. "Are you okay?" He asks, a headache beginning to pound at the base of his skull. Herobrine sighs heavily through his nose. "I am adequate, at the moment."

"You...you saved my life," Steve realizes, eyes wide. "You protected me from the explosion." Herobrine's face clearly shows he's in a rotten mood, plus the pained expression on his face hasn't left yet. "Did you get hurt?" Despite what so many people—including himself at one point—think, Herobrine could suffer injuries. Killing him might be impossible, but hurting him is as easy as hurting any human. "Turn around," Steve commands, leaving Herobrine no opportunity to refute before he grabs Herobrine's arm and turns the man bodily around. He gasps at what he sees.

Due to his proximity to the explosion, Herobrine's shirt is burned cleaned through on the back, revealing a mess of burns and cuts, probably from little pieces of broken sandstone. He isn't bleeding but the burns look painful and extensive. If he'd been human he'd probably be dead. As it is, his healing abilities are already mending the damaged skin, but even so Steve doesn't think for a second that everything is okay just because Herobrine will be healed in a few minutes. Herobrine had once confided in him that though an injury might heal quickly, it is only the surface wounds that do; he still feels his body attempting to return to normal for hours afterward, depending on the complexity and intensity of the wound. Steve knows Herobrine will probably be feeling the repercussions of this for at least another day.

He spots his bag, having been blown to the side from the explosion, laying against one of the many pillars supporting the temple. "Just, don't move. I have something that might help." He leaves Herobrine where he is, standing with his back still to the hole, and runs over to his bag, pulling out item after useless item until he finds a roll of wool bandages. He returns to Herobrine's side. "I have some bandages, they should help your healing. Can you take your shirt off?"

Herobrine grabs the front of his own shirt and pulls. It must have been hanging together by a thread, because it comes away easily, and he drops it uncaringly to the floor. "Here, hold this," Steve says, handing him an end to the roll. Herobrine holds it to his chest while Steve takes the rest of the roll and walks around him, wrapping the bandage around practically his entire torso. Steve barely has any left over when he's done. "There, that should help."

"It came from over here! In the temple!" Comes a shout from outside, accompanied by the sound of dogs barking. Steve gasps.

"People are coming!" He whispers, fear prickling across his spine. "What do we do?" He asks worriedly as he shoves the rest of the bandage into his bag. Herobrine holds his hand out. "Take my hand."

When Steve does so, a strange sensation overtakes him, like his whole being is being shifted several times in every direction. He closes his eyes and experiences severe disorientation before the feeling subsides. He feels the hand holding him let go, and when he assures himself he's on solid ground, he opens his eyes. They're standing outside in the desert, on a hill far away from the temple, where Steve can see two people and some dogs approaching it. It makes him sick that they almost encountered other people, and he realizes that Herobrine must have teleported them out of the temple.

"We are going home," Herobrine says, voice hard and icy. If Steve had wanted to protest, it would have been impossible.

"Y-Yeah," he agrees, stomach a little queasy from the teleportation. Herobrine holds his hand out again, and though Steve knows just what that means and his stomach does a flip just thinking about it, he takes the offered hand anyway.

When they arrive in a flurry of ender particles in front of his house, Steve nearly loses his lunch. "We are never doing...that again," Steve says on his hands and knees—just in case. "That was horrible. How do you stand that?"

"Try withstanding an explosion."

"Oh ha ha. We really need to work on your sense of humor."

"That can wait." Herobrine grabs his arm and stands him up. "Your arms are bleeding."

Steve holds them up and sure enough, blood is oozing sluggishly from shallow cuts. The skin around them is already turning an ugly purple. The sight of bruises makes him feel uneasy—too many memories. "Huh."

Herobrine wraps his arms in bandages after cleaning the wounds, and they spend the rest of the day recuperating. Steve thinks about the next adventure while Herobrine wonders just what he got himself into being friends with a danger magnet.


	8. Herobrine's Haunted House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little ficlet inspired by Halloween!

There's a ravine in the forest. It's deep, dark depths hide a surprising find, one that Steve is sure he'd of missed on any normal day. But today was not a normal day, thanks to the lunatic standing beside him.

"This isn't a good idea," he says plainly, crossing his arms and trying to smother shivers. Though night has only just descended, the wind whips by them in a cold, frozen flurry. Herobrine seems unfazed.

"Nonsense," Herobrine says, unmindful of the wind and the encroaching darkness as Steve's torch starts to die down. Of course he wouldn't mind; he can see in the dark. Steve, unfortunately, does not have that ability.

"Okay, we saw it, now we can leave." Steve holds his torch up and attempts to find the path home, but he knows, and Herobrine knows, it is a fruitless effort. "Er, which way's the road?"

"I'm afraid not," comes a just plain dastardly whisper. Herobrine is suddenly not next to him anymore. He has a habit of disappearing and reappearing, though it has subsided in recent weeks. Steve's almost willing to make a break for the road through the dense foliage and towering trees but hands grab his shoulders roughly and there's that weird, shifting feeling that comes with teleporting and now he's standing on hard stone, head spinning and stomach in his throat. Groaning, he squeezes his eyes shut until the feelings pass.

"What did I say about that? No more!"

There's no answer. He looks around but Herobrine is no where to be seen, and the old, abandoned house tucked away in the bottom of the ravine looms before him, intimidating and unwelcoming. "Herobrine!" Steve calls, his voice echoing back at him. The ravine is much deeper than it looks from the ground above, especially since there's not a torch lit save the one in his hand, and even that one is dimming quickly. "Herobrine!" Still, nothing.

"Great," he mutters, kicking a small chuck of stone. He looks up at the house and feels dread. He does not want to go in there.

For a moment he considers staying put, out of spite, but the world hates him and it starts raining. Not wanting to catch a cold, he is forced onto the deck of the house, under the roof. And just his luck, it's a thunder storm, lighting and thunder penetrating the darkness and silence of the night.

He turns to the front door, which barely hangs from the doorway. The house inside is pitch black and highly ominous. Sighing in defeat, he mutters, "I won't forgive you from this," and walks into the doorway.

His waning torch provides little light, but he can see that the house is very old. There's dust upon dust, and the floorboards creak greatly when he steps on them. The whole house in fact seems to bend and break the farther he walks in, like his footsteps are too much for the old house.

There isn't much in the foyer but there are two doors, one on either side of him, and a stairway just ahead. The door to the right is boarded up, and the stairs lead straight into darkness. No way he's going up there. So, the left door it is.

He's just starting to feel nervous about the life left on his torch when he sees another one on a table. He quickly grabs it, but as soon as he picks it up the familiar and dread sound of a skeleton's rattling approaches from beyond the door on the other side of the room. Eyes wide and heart beating wildly, Steve drops his torch and steps on it several times in wild and frightful manner before nervously hiding under the table, praying to the Aether Gods that whatever rounds the corner doesn't spot him.

He feels vulnerable under the table; it doesn't seem like he'd be able to hide from anything. His eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, but it feels heavy and invading without the torch to help him.

He hears a scratching sound along with the rattling and holds his breath. Despite his slightly improved vision in the dark, he can't spot the glaringly white sheen of bones.

He's starting to think he's in the safe when a sword hits the ground just in front of him and the darkness shifts. He clasps a hand over his mouth to stop a scream and realizes why he couldn't see the skeleton's legs: it's a  _wither skeleton._

He'd cry if it wouldn't get him killed. The sword digs briefly into the old wood before dragging along as the skeleton moves away, taking slow steps until it disappears around the corner.

His heart is about to burst from his chest. He waits several seconds to make sure the skeleton is gone before leaving the safety of his hiding spot and making a break for the door. He doesn't care if he gets soaked or even struck by lightning, there's no way he's going to stay in this house any longer.

He doesn't notice the door is closed until he's trying the doorknob to open it. The door doesn't budge.

"No, no no  _please_ ," he whispers, frantically trying to force the door open. It's no use; he's stuck in a house with a wither skeleton, and Herobrine is no where to be seen.

"I hope you rot in the Nether," Steve whispers harshly, knowing Herobrine can probably hear him. He doesn't doubt for a second that Herobrine's gone—he's sure the sadistic bastard is enjoying this torture.

"Now don't be cruel," comes a deep rumble, seemingly from everywhere. Steve wouldn't be able to tell which direction Herobrine's voice came from if his life depended on it.

"Don't be cruel!" Steve whispers as loudly as he dares. "Why don't you try taking your own advice!"

"Careful. There's a wither skeleton around here somewhere." Herobrine's voice fades away with a dark laugh and Steve promises to himself he's not going to talk to his "friend" for at least a month after this. He hopes Herobrine can deal with the silent treatment.

Footsteps and rattling start getting closer again, so he ducks back into the room to the left and hides beneath the table. He takes deep breaths and doesn't move a muscle as the wither skeleton wanders back into the room. It circles two times before leaving, and Steve hears the creak of stairs, as well as the clang of the sword presumably knocking against each step on the way up.

In the clear for now, Steve hurriedly scrambles out from beneath the table and sneaks into the room the skeleton had emerged from. It's a living room if the couch he bumps into is any indication. A cloud of dust kicks up from his actions and it takes everything in him to not sneeze up a storm. The skeleton would find him for sure.

His sight has improved but not by much, and taking a chance he takes the torch and strikes it quickly across the wall. The old wood protests, but manages to ignite the tip of the torch, but to his dismay, low, red light floods the room. It's a redstone torch.

He'd be swearing up a storm if he could speak, but his tongue is tied as he explores the room. The redstone torch does provide some light, but he wishes there was more. No, actually he wishes he wasn't in this stupid house to begin with.

A scratching sound makes him whip his head around, and his blood freezes in his veins. The wither skeleton is standing at the door, unmoving as it stares right at him. Steve stares back, horrified, and makes no movement at all. Maybe it won't see him if he doesn't move.

No luck. The wither skeleton emits a piercing scream and raises the sword as it charges for him. Screaming in terror, Steve can only yell in fear, close his eyes and hope his death is quick.

After several seconds of nothing happening, laughter slowly builds until it fills the room, it's owner no doubt proud of himself. Torches all around the room burst to life and Steve opens his eyes to see the sword only a few inches in front of his face. He feels like passing out.

The skeleton lowers the sword until it's resting back on the ground. No longer hostile, it looks around before wandering back out of the room.

The laughter is loud now, and Steve is angered to sense that it's genuine. He turns around to find the source, and glares death at Herobrine.

Herobrine, for his part, seems unaware as a laughs and laughs, so proud that his little trick worked on Steve. Of course it would; human's are so easy to scare. He quiets down when he senses Steve's glare on him and fixes his own mirth-filled gaze on the miner, smug as could be.

"Don't tell me a wither skeleton is enough to frighten you? They're harmless," Herobrine says, expecting Steve to respond, but instead, Steve's glare turns slowly into a steady stare, and his mouth remains shut.

"You know I'd never let anything like that actually harm you, yes?" Herobrine says, and any laughter left in his face vanishes when Steve turns around, still silent, and walks out of the room. Herobrine follows.

"Were you harmed? What is wrong?" Question after question is ignored, and when Steve stops in front of the door and gives him a look, Herobrine shoves the door open, becoming distressed.

"What is wrong? Why do you not speak?" He says, his voice becoming rougher and less composed. Still, Steve remains silent.

On the way back home, Herobrine continues trying to get Steve to talk, and Steve keeps ignoring him, to the point where Herobrine just follows behind Steve, expression lost. He keeps trying to figure out what's wrong, to find a clue as to why Steve won't speak.

When they reach the house, Steve grabs a piece of paper, takes a stick of charcoal, and writes a single sentence. Herobrine waits by the door, shifting every few seconds in anticipation.

Steve hands him the note, and Herobrine's eyes widen when he reads it.

_I can be cruel too. I'm ignoring you for that until I see fit._

As a flurry of apologies leave Herobrine's mouth, Steve smiles to himself. This'll be fun.


	9. Tour Guide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support, whether you commented or gave kudos or bookmarked or even if you've just read my silly little stories, thank you! I didn't mean for the next chapter to take so long. There's a lot to do in Minecraft, after all, I should be able to come up with stuff.  
> If you want to see something specific, either super fluffy or incredibly dark, feel free to ask and I just might do it. Just another way to get some ideas flowin'!  
> Also, good luck figuring out who the two builders are. I did have two actual people in mind for them.  
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

"I'd like to show you something," Herobrine says, completely out of the blue. From his spot on a chair, Steve sets down one of the books Herobrine had brought him from a stronghold.

"You do?"

"Yes. Come." Steve scrambles out of the chair when Herobrine turns and walks out the door, eager to find out what his surprise is. He grabs his bag on the way out, just in case—with Herobrine, he can never fail to be prepared for anything and everything.

"Wait, do we have to teleport?" Steve asks suspiciously, slowing down while getting ready to bolt back into the house and not come out again if Herobrine's answer is yes.

"Yes."

Steve turns right around and starts walking back to the house, but a strong grip on his bag stops him in his tracks. Try as he might, the grip is impossible to break. He sighs and turns around.

"Walking would be futile. The distance is too great." Herobrine tries to explain, but Steve's heard it all before.

"Yeah okay. Why can't you ever find something cool that's within walking distance?"

"Do you not like adventure?"

"Well I don't like the walking part," he mumbles, but Herobrine hears him anyway. He sighs again and braces himself as Herobrine puts a hand on his shoulder.

When the world is right again, he opens his eyes expecting brightness, but there is only darkness. One solitary redstone torch sheds dim light around the large cave they apparently appeared in.

"Where are we?"

"Almost to our destination."

Herobrine is standing next to a Nether portal. The moment Steve sees that shiny obsidian he's shaking his head no. "Nope, not happening. No way am I going in  _there_."

"Come now, the Nether is not so horrible. Hot, yes, but you get used to it."

"Maybe  _you_  get used to it, you're not human! And you live there!"

"I—while that is true, it does not invalidate my point. Trust me, you'll be fine."

Steve puts his head in his hands and laments about what his life has become.

He enters the portal reluctantly. Herobrine hops in beside him and they let the portal work its strange magic. Just another reason traveling to the Nether sucks—that sick feeling that comes with teleporting hits fast and hard.

When it clears for the second time, the air is noticeably hotter and fire crackles from every direction. No mistaking where they are now.

The air is hard to breath in, a stark contrast from the cool, crisp air of the Overworld. Steve takes some deep breaths, trying to get used to such heavy, hot air, but his efforts are for naught when he finally looks around and sees something that takes his breath away.

A fortress, or more accurately, a castle. Maybe at one point in time it had been a fortress, but the newer structure has been built on top of it and around it in a spectacular manner, the intricacies melding well with the previous fortress's natural structure. In sits in and atop a large mound of netherrack, demanding the attention of all who discover it. Stone and interestingly enough, wood, are incorporated strongly into the design, as well as obsidian, the shining black material like icing on a cake—the castle looks intimidating.

And amazing.

"Woooow!" Steve says in awe, his inner adventurer giddy at the thought of exploring such a massive, mysterious place. "What is this place?"

"This is my home."

Steve's jaw actually drops. "You got to be kidding me."

"I...no, I wouldn't—"

Steve shakes his head. Someday Herobrine would begin to understand human idioms and humor...just not today. "I was just joking. Honestly? I probably should have assumed you'd live in a place like this. It's truly amazing."

Herobrine comes to stand next to Steve, observing the large castle as well despite having see it inside and out for several centuries. "Yes, I was very pleased by how it turned out. I had chosen its builders very specifically."

"Really? Who?"

Herobrine glances at him. "I cannot tell you who but I can tell you why. I chose two builders specifically for their design abilities. One I had observed and found I agreed very strongly with his tastes. He liked to incorporate obsidian and darker materials into his builds, and I very much liked his style. The second didn't usually use those same materials, but he could use a wide variety of colors and make them match expertly. He focused a lot on detail, especially on interior, whereas the other focused more on the building as a whole. I figure that both of them could come up with a house grand and worthy enough for me, and I was right."

Steve might as well have stars shining in his eyes. "Really? Wow that's so cool. How did you get them to do it?"

Herobrine smiles. "I threatened their lives and the lives of everyone they loved."

"That's...well that's about what I expected," Steve says, hiking his bag higher onto his shoulder. At least Herobrine can find humor in his past, judging by the way he said that.

"Can we check it out?" Steve asks. When Herobrine reaches for him, Steve steps back, holding his hands up. "Wait! Can't we walk?" He gestures towards the clearly visible and very much in tact bridge. Jeez, could one guy be so teleportation happy?

"If you want, sure," Herobrine concedes, walking towards the bridge. Having seen everything around his home before, he doesn't waste time sight seeing, but Steve lags behind, taking in the deadly beauty of the Nether.

Steve's never been to the Nether before. He's heard of it before, in stories, but he's never been to it. He's never even tried making a portal before, though he does know how. There just hadn't been any desire to, but seeing it now...it's pretty amazing.

Like the Overworld, there are large pools, but unlike the Overworld, those pools are made entirely of lava. It flows in waterfalls down, creating glowing red hot streams that just add to the atmosphere. The land itself is so unique and different from what he's so used to seeing; it's like there's no order, no rhyme or reason to the way the land is generated. From floating blocks to massive lava oceans, the Nether is one place he'd never of thought he'd be glad to see.

The bridge is a mighty curved affair, having been built more for looks than for functionality. In fact, he's so captivated by the world around him, he misses Herobrine's outstretched hand until he bumps into it.

"Careful," Herobrine says, and Steve sees that the bridge has some missing steps. Herobrine and him step around them.

"Why is it broken? Shouldn't you fix it?"

Herobrine shrugs. "It was built broken." Not like he ever uses the bridge anyway. With the ability to teleport, walking's become a laughable inconvenience.

"Well that's kinda silly," Steve says, hopping over a few more gaps. They're not very big, but to him it doesn't make sense. It does look good, but what if someone falls through?

"I don't mind. I never walk the bridge, for I have no need."

Steve nods to himself. That is true.

When they get to the entrance, Steve thinks maybe the large doors have never been moved before, because how could they? Made of obsidian and stone, no one would be able to open such large and heavy doors.

Except for Herobrine, and now he's starting to see why this castle had been built the way it is. It had been tailored to its owner.

The door doesn't stand a chance. Herobrine appears to barely push, and yet it creeks open easily. It's quite impressive.

If even possible, the inside is more spectacular and amazing than the outside. Whereas the outside had been designed to look strict and clean, the inside is an explosion of colors and detail. One thing Steve's noticed in his short time in the Nether is the prevalence and domination of the color red. And that theme continues with the interior of the castle. Red carpet lines the floor, leading off into adjacent hallways. A grand chandelier hangs from the center of the entrance hall, a mix of fence, what looks like glass panes, and glowstone. It makes for a beautiful ornament to accent the room. A few tables line the walls near the door, various flowers somehow alive and vibrant in clay pots. Though the building's exterior had only some wood, the inside is primarily wood, with stone bricks intricately woven through the designs on the walls.

Opposite the door, a large and colorful glass window sits, landscape depicted within. It looked like...the Overworld? Maybe a plains biome?

"At the time I asked them to build this, I had little desire to be in the Overworld because of the humans I hated so. But I knew I would miss the Overworld itself. Though I had little care for it's people, the Overworld is a place I always feel welcome to and consider my true home," Herobrine says quietly. Steve puts a hand on his shoulder, in sympathy.

"I'd say you're always welcomed there." Steve looks around some more, something about the two builders Herobrine had described nagging at him.

"So...these builders you were talking about..." He starts. Herobrine turns to him. "Are they anything like the people you went to for redstone advice?"

Herobrine smiles, letting that tell Steve his answer. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he couldn't speak about those people. However, Steve is very perceptive to have remembered that and figured out that yes, the people he'd contracted to build his Nether castle years and years ago had also helped him build that farm so recently.

"So, what, they're...immortal? Or something? Like you?"

_More like you_ , Herobrine thinks. It takes all of his considerable control over himself to not say that, though he so badly wants to. What a shock that would be. Most likely, as humans tend to do, he'd laugh and say what a funny joke that is, outright denying the truth of his existence. Although perhaps, in Steve's case, he cannot be faulted for something he does not even know about himself. Maybe someday Herobrine will tell him, but that day is not today. A shame, really.

"If you remember that, then you must also remember that I cannot speak of it." Herobrine shrugs but his face says it all.

"Right...well, their skills at building are incredible. I've never seen such a grand building before. Most of the villages I used to visit had similar buildings, depending on their function. It's kinda weird, actually," Steve adds in a mumble.

"Quite the coincidence," Herobrine agrees, and steers the topic back towards the castle and away from something so sensitive. Even though he used to enjoy and even anticipate lying to and toying with humans; now, he doesn't feel right lying to his friend's face. "Shall we visit the rest of the castle?" He says, gesturing towards the left hall. Steve smiles and nods, thankfully dropping the conversation.

The rest of the castle is just as marvelous as the entrance hall. There are a lot of small, empty rooms, which Herobrine explains are just for looks and not for use, to provide stability to the build. The part of the castle they entered from the left hall doesn't appear to have ever been used. Though there are chests, they are empty as well.

Still, the sights are something to behold, and even more so when they walk the halls on the right. Like the left, a lot of the first rooms are empty, but then they come to the section of the castle Herobrine actually uses.

One room the size of four smaller rooms is filled with nothing but chests, stacked on top of each other and lining the entire room.

Steve assumes, based on his own chest organization methods, that some of the chests would have been filled with important, useful items, like ores, materials, things like that. Maybe a few other chests would have random, strange items.

This is not the case.

Every single chest is filled to the brim with as much as it can handle. None of it is organized.

"How do you live like this?" Steve asks in shock, going through the many chests and having his mind blown again and again.

"I do not use many of these items. They are things I have collected over my many years alive."

"So how do you have so much stuff?"

"I..." Well, he doesn't want to lie anymore. "Some of it I collected myself. Most of it I stole from humans."

"Really?" Steve says, his react luckily not disgusted or angered. He seems more amused than anything.

"Yes..."  _Please don't ask, please don't ask—_

"You never did that to me, did you?"

Herobrine says nothing, he simply looks at Steve, whose smile turns from amused to suspicious. "Did you?"

"..."

" _Did you?"_

Placing his hands behind his back, Herobrine turns and starts walking away. "Why don't we see the rest?"

"I can't believe it, you  _did!_ " Steve says, running in front of Herobrine and crowding him back towards the chests. "You stole from me!"

"Only a small, insignificant amount," Herobrine defends, holding his fingers together about an inch apart.

"I can't believe you!" Steve exclaims, but there's a smile on his face. "You jerk, what'd you take that's so 'insignificant?'"

Behind his back, Herobrine's hands twist together nervously. "Some...diamonds, maybe?"

Steve shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips and cocking a brow. "Have you something to say?"

Somewhat uncharacteristically, he's starting to feel like a chastised child having been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Yes, he did steal from Steve, when they first met. He'd go to Steve's chests during the night and take some diamonds, some iron and emeralds and other valuable materials. Not too many at once, but his visits probably added up. Not that he had cared.

"An apology is in order, I suppose? Well, my apologies. Will you ever forgive me?" Herobrine says, bowing low as if addressing a person of power. Not something he'd ever do in actuality, but to humor a friend, yes.

"Well, I guess all is forgiven," Steve says with a laugh, gesturing him back up.

They leave the chest room, Herobrine thinking in the back of his mind to return the stolen goods. Truthfully, he'd completely forgotten about that. In recent years, the most time he'd spent in his castle had been to drop items off before he went back to the Overworld, eager to frighten and massacre more people. Since befriending Steve, his castle has been sitting, gathering dust. His teleportation not only works on him and others, but on items as well, giving him the ability to summon whatever he needs to him, even across dimensions. Quite handy.

At one point, when they have explored everything about the castle and begin heading back to the portal, they find their paths blocked by a drove of a creature Steve has never seen before, but what Herobrine knows to be zombie pigmen.

"What are they?" Steve asks, having slowed to a stop a number of blocks away. Herobrine observes the stupid mobs for a few seconds.

"They are zombie pigmen, and as long as you don't hit them, they're harmless. And as long as you're with me, they won't attack, even when hit."

"Zombie pigmen? How...how did they even..." Steve can't even ask the question, it's so ridiculous. Not only are they zombies—evident in their sickly green discolored skin and vacant expressions—but pigmen? Pigs that are men or men that are pigs?

"How do any of us exist? We cannot choose who we are," Herobrine offers.

Steve nods and keeps Herobrine between himself and the pigmen, just in case. "I guess that makes sense."

They return to the portal safely, thankfully not encountering any more mobs. Herobrine secretly is glad for this fact. The mobs of the Overworld are easy to sway, but the mobs of the Nether are harder. The pigmen are easy, the magma cubes as well, but the ghasts, wither skeletons, and blazes are a fair bit harder to control. He probably should have mentioned that to Steve at some point, but since they didn't come across a ghast...maybe next time.

Through some strange time distortion between dimensions, the afternoon of when they'd left has become early morning, with the sun just about to rise over the horizon. Steve drops his bag onto the floor when he gets home before falling into bed, groaning over his sore feet. "Walking sucks," he mumbles into his pillow.

"That is why I do not do it," Herobrine says. He stands by the door, waiting for Steve to fall asleep before he takes his leave.

"Yeah yeah, you and your evil dumb teleportation," the miner says, waving his hand dismissively at Herobrine but keeping his head down. A few moments later he's asleep.

Herobrine smiles at his friend before making good on his promise. When Steve wakes up, there'll be a stack of diamonds and some surprises there waiting for him.


	10. No One Understands

Rain pelts the wooden roof hard. Wind rattles the house to its foundation. The cows moo sadly, huddled together as they are for warmth. The sheep and the chickens are not much different, suffering unhappily in the pouring rain and wondering why their caretakers are not there to help them. The poor flowers and plants scattered around the house cling desperately to the ground by their roots.

Storms rarely hit forest biomes, and never do they strike which such intensity and ferocity. Perhaps, mother nature knows of the quiet fury that resides within the very house being battered.

The house is a beacon of light and warmth, a stark contrast to the emotions of the figure inside. He sits, back straight and face blank as he watches over another figure laying still on a bed. Though he looks as still as a statue, his body is rocked by small, hardly noticeable tremors, brought about by extreme and burning emotion. The rise and fall of his charge's chest should have been like a balm to him, but by the glow of the roaring fire the sight of bone white bandages becomes an ugly reminder of just what condition his friend has fallen into.

Though from the outside the house looks like normal, the inside is a disaster. Tables are flipped on their sides, potted plants are laying, broken, on the floor. Dried blood is splattered on the floor, as well as around the bed and on his own hands and clothes too. He ignores all of it as he guards his friend intently.

For perhaps the first time, his anger is nearly overshadowed by a great guilt and crippling anguish. He  _never_  should have left Steve's side in that fortress...

* * *

Herobrine stands, watching calmly and patiently for Steve to hurry along. The miner has a tendency to become distracted by the most miniscule of details. To Herobrine, what they are about to attempt is outright madness, but Steve insists they return. The Nether is dangerous, and to spend any extended amount of time there is a certified death wish. Herobrine remembers watching clueless humans stumble through his Nether portal and immediately embrace death, either by agitating a pigman or meeting a ghast's fireball with their face. Some even fell off cliffs and burned alive. Their screams might have been like a soothing lullaby, but now he questions whether he had been mentally unstable back then. Befriending Steve has brought him back to the reality that is caring for someone other than himself.

"Hurry up, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave," Herobrine urges, crowding Steve into the portal. They're in the cave again, the single redstone torch throwing strange red shadows around the walls. Talk about atmospheric lighting.

"What's the hurry?" Steve says nonchalantly, closing his eyes as the portal transports them to the Nether. As the world becomes dark and red and hot, he's reminded to ask Herobrine how the portals work, but for now he's satisfied with his curiosity.

The castle remains a grand sight to behold, standing tall atop the mountain. Its size alone is outstanding, nevermind all the careful and loving detail that had clearly been put into it. He wishes he could talk with these mysterious builders Herobrine had contracted, but he knows that if he is, he's going to have to find them himself, and judging by Herobrine's words about their location, it's probably impossible to find them. Oh well.

"The 'hurry' is that the Nether has mobs that I cannot guarantee control of. The pigmen and the cubes are easy, but the others will not be swayed so." Herobrine acts like Steve's shadow, never more than a foot behind the miner. His diamond sword gleams in his hand, ready to deflect any incoming fireballs.

"We...can worry about that when we get to a fortress.  _If_  we get to a fortress," Steve corrects. Herobrine has told him that fortresses are few and far between. Hopefully they can find one.

In the interest of exploration, Steve had asked Herobrine if they could look for a Nether fortress. His outright answer had been a hard no, but Steve convinced him with 'puppy dog eyes,' something he'd been happy to see Herobrine wasn't immune to. Strangely, Herobrine spent their entire walk to the portal trying to dissuade him from continuing, which of course only intrigued Steve more. What could possibly be so bad about the Nether to make the almighty Herobrine actively worry? Steve's eager to find out.

While he enjoys the sights of the unusual land generation of the Nether, Herobrine internally hopes they don't find a fortress. Having previously called the Nether his home, he of course knows the locations of all fortresses within a hundred or so blocks, and it seems, to his dismay, that Steve's natural adventurer instincts are leading them straight for one. Just his luck. When he knows they're close, he exerts more energy into extending the length of which his presence reaches. Hopefully, being so far away, any blazes or wither skeletons will suddenly get just enough of an impulse to leave. Hopefully, he'll be able to keep some of the mobs away.

At least they haven't encountered any ghasts yet. He wonders how long his luck will hold out for.

Steve can't be happier when he reaches the top of a small mound of netherrack and sees a large pillar of dark purple material, which he knows to be nether brick from Herobrine's castle. When he turns to Herobrine, an excitement in his eyes he can't hide, Herobrine sighs deeply before teleporting them up to it.

Not even annoyed at having been teleported, Steve gazes in awe and a little bit of giddiness at the amazing structure they've found.

"You've been to fortresses before, right?" Steve asks, watching as Herobrine looks around, his expression pinched.

"Yes, several times. They are truly nothing special, perhaps we should leave now that we've seen it." His efforts to convince Steve away from the fortress seem only to push the miner towards it.

"'Seen it?'" Steve repeats, his face showing clear skepticism. "We only  _just_  got here, no way I'm leaving without exploring a little." He watches Herobrine's twitchy movements for a few moments before throwing his hands up, having had enough. "Okay, what's got you so wound up? You've been edgy ever since I proposed this idea." Steve crosses his arms and taps his foot, waiting for an answer.

Herobrine glances at Steve before going back to scouting the air for ghasts while also keeping an eye on the ground for skeletons and blazes. "I've already said my piece. The mobs here do not respond like the ones in the Overworld, as much as I hate it, and it takes a substantial amount of energy to force them away." He stops in his obsessive scouting and turns to look at Steve, completely serious when he says, "I don't want you to get hurt. The Nether is unpredictable."

Steve smiles kindly and pats Herobrine on the shoulder. "Nothing will happen, and I promise we can leave if I'm proven wrong. I swear," he adds, holding his hand over his heart at Herobrine's skeptical look. The gesture eases Herobrine somewhat.

"I will hold—" He's interrupted by a loud and unsettlingly inhuman screech, and then the sound of a fireball heading right for them. Herobrine whips around to see a ghast floating not too far away, its crying, sad face turning momentarily hostile as it shoots another fireball at them.

Pushing Steve away, he waits for the right moment to swing his sword in a wide arc that catches the fireball in just the right way to make it deflect back at the ghast, instead hitting the second fireball. A third emerges from amidst the explosion, and this time, Herobrine aims for the ghast. The fireball strikes true, and the ghast makes an ugly sound as it disintegrates.

He turns back around to see Steve staring at him with wide and, thankfully, frightened eyes. Maybe they will be leaving sooner rather than later. "I will hold you to that."

"Y-Yeah," Steve stutters, gulping as Herobrine shakes molten lava off his sword like it's nothing, "Like I s-said, everything will be fine."

Unfortunately, the terror of seeing a ghast does nothing to dissuade Steve from exploring more of the fortress, so Herobrine trudges along behind his friend, annoyed at human persistence and ready to defend them both from any wither skeletons or blazes too stupid to listen to him.

They find a lot that fascinates Steve and bores Herobrine. It's hard to be intrigued by things he's seen enough of already. Still, it is nice seeing his friend look so genuinely excited about exploring and miraculously, this adventure's playing out better than their desert temple one.

They do come across one blaze when Steve rounds a corner and bumps face first into it. The mob lights its self on fire, the telltale sign that it's about to shoot, and Herobrine steps in front of Steve, blocking all three shots of fire before slicing the mob clean in half. All but one of the glowing yellow rods that made up its body remain, and Herobrine tosses it to Steve, who gives a shout of confused fear.

"What is this?" Considering it'd been just on fire, Steve might have thought it'd be hot to the touch, but the rod is mysteriously cool.

"It is a blaze rod. You must crush it and sprinkle the dust onto an enderpearl to create an eye of ender, which is the only way for humans to find a stronghold. It will lead the bearer to the closest stronghold it can find."

"Wow," Steve whispers to himself, putting the blaze rod in his bag for safe keeping. He then smiles and thanks Herobrine for saving his life—again—before continuing on his way.

The winding halls contain a few secret chests, as Steve discovers. Most are filled with gold ingots and some gold swords. He takes the gold and leaves the swords, and one of the chests contains two diamonds, a pleasant surprise.

After walking down a long set of stairs, Steve sees from the corner of his eye bright red, and turns to see a strange...plant?...growing out of some soulsand. They almost look like carrots, expect red and gross.

"What is it?" Steve asks, and Herobrine lifts an eyebrow.

"You don't recognize it?" Steve shrugs. "It is nether wart." At Steve's blank face, Herobrine explains further. "You used it to make potions. It is the first thing you put in a brewing stand."

"Oh—really? This stuff?" He reaches out and touches one of the long stalks. The texture is rough and yet squishy. "It doesn't look like it."

"Here." Herobrine swipes his sword through the nether wart, chopping the good part off and the leaving the bottoms to die and regrow. He hands some to Steve. "You can grow them yourself, but you will need soulsand. Remind me to bring you some when we get back."

"Sure thing."

After finally having explored the fortress as much as they possibly could have, Herobrine is eager to leave. They return to the larger open area they had started on, and Herobrine can almost see the portal with his superior eyesight.

Another ghast rounds the corner, noticing them standing there and ignoring Herobrine completely, shooting a fireball at the only living thing it detects. Herobrine once again deflects each fireball until the ghast dies, but the last rogue fireball strikes the ground and breaks a hole in the flooring. No longer in immediate threat, Herobrine relaxes.

"What are those things? Are those the ghasts?" Steve asks, coming up behind him. Herobrine eyes a ghast a little further out, waiting for it to disappear behind a cliff before answering.

"Yes, those are ghasts. They fly around and look for any humans to attack, should one find his- or herself in the Nether. I have seen them kill many humans in my life, and they have even attacked me on occasion. And as you just saw, sending their fireballs back at them is the most efficient way to kill them. Otherwise, you'd need a lot of arrows."

"And the yellow one—o-on fire? That's a blaze?"

"Correct."

"So, the only mob we haven't seen that could be a problem are the wither skeletons."

"Yes, which is why I would like to leave."

"Really? Maybe...I guess we can go. I don't want to meet one, especially after the one you brought to the Overworld to scare me with, jerk." Steve says, glaring at Herobrine.

"You're not still mad about that, are you?" Herobrine asks, resting his sword on his shoulder, most likely not realizing that it makes him look twice as intimidating. Steve pauses for a few moments.

"...No. No I'm not still mad," he says, the picture of innocence. He knows Herobrine would never hurt him, but still, he's  _Herobrine._  He isn't exactly known for his charitable deeds.

The sound of a blaze interrupts them, and Herobrine sighs. "We will not be returning here any time soon," he says, annoyed, and Steve shrugs and smiles sheepishly, nervously shuffling in his place while Herobrine walks towards the blaze, his sword dragging roughly against the ground.

The blaze, repulsed by his presence, slowly starts floating down the corridor, reminding him of the times he'd hunt mobs(and humans)for fun—well, for amusement. Humans would never know, but mobs do show, and feel, fear, and it's quite satisfying. The blaze lights itself on fire, preparing to shoot, and before it gets the chance Herobrine lunges forward and strikes the blaze through its core. For a single moment it's like time stands still as Herobrine glares into the blazes eyes as it dies, but he does not have time to relish his victory.

"Herobr— _ah!_ "

The call of his name is cut off by a loud and wet gasp, and he turns around, the dissolving remains of the blaze forgotten as he gazes in horror at his friend, a stone sword skewered straight through his midsection and agony in his eyes as they look at him for help.  _No._

The wither skeleton, mercilessly, yanks the sword out, and Herobrine is freed from a state of frozen shock by an explosion of red hot fury, the likes of which he's never felt before. The next moment is a blur where he only understands one thought running through his mind amongst the crushing weight of rage within him.

_Save him._

The skeleton is reduced to black dust, and though Steve still lives, his life is slipping away fast. Herobrine's hands shake as he picks his friend up and he forces himself forward. Blood has never bothered him before, and he does not remember feeling so affected by the sight of it after Steve's visit to the village. But now, as it shines cruelly over his skin and clothes and continues pouring from his friend's wound, he doesn't ever want to see it again. The black rage inside him threatens a loss of control, and he savagely pushes back all of his emotions as he teleports them to the portal and then back home. Personal feelings cannot get in the way now. He will worry about keeping his friend alive first. That is priority one.

He feels bad, trailing blood throughout Steve's house, and he hurries to set Steve gently on his bed, wanting to stay with him as long as possible but knowing that he must get bandages and potions. He nearly tears the house apart in his search, and luckily there are potions of healing and regeneration on a shelf by the door. Bandages are also left over from the desert misadventure. He drags a table over to the bed and swipes everything to the floor before collecting the required potions and bandages to spread over the table.

Sometime between having the sword pulled out and arriving back at his house, Steve had passed out, likely from a combination of shock and blood loss. The first thing Herobrine does is uncork a potion of regeneration and carefully but quickly force Steve to drink it, in the hopes that the potion will mend the internal damage. Herobrine doesn't know if he remembers anyone surviving wounds of this nature from potions alone, and that thought circles around his head as he gives Steve the potion of healing next.

Once that is done, he tears Steve's ruined shirt off and throws it with more force than necessary away. The potion of regeneration creates a soft pink glow as it starts healing the damaged skin inside and out. Herobrine reluctantly and hesitantly raises his unresponsive friend to a sitting position so that he may wrap his stomach in clean white bandages. Luckily, the potions have stopped the bleeding, and all that is left of the wound is a sickening and jagged slit, straight through to his back.

Laying Steve back down and covered in blood, Herobrine's legs shake until he falls to his knees, covers his face with his hands, and screams his fury and fear to the world.

* * *

The wind outside subsides, but the clouds and rain remain. Herobrine knows the sun should have been up by now, but through the window the world is dark still. Fitting.

If only Steve would move. If only he'd shift his weight, or get more comfortable, or take a deep breath but he does nothing and it's  _killing_  Herobrine. Is his friend okay? He's alive but will he recover? Is there something he's overlooking? All these questions bombard his mind and the only person who can answer them is laying injured and unconscious before him.

He should leave.

He should walk out the door and never come back, so that nothing like this will ever happen again. What could he possibly have been thinking, that he and a mortal could be friends? That they could coexist and live happy lives together? It's an impossibility. People die around him, they always have and this proves they always will. Steve...he's too kind and thoughtful to deserve a friend like him, if he can even call himself Steve's friend anymore. It's  _his_  fault this happened, and if he leaves, right now, it'll never happen again.

When he stands the chair makes a horribly loud and annoying grating sound as it scratches along the wood floor. Herobrine looks down at Steve's slack face and feels a wave of resolve hit him. He turns around and walks to the door, but just as he reaches it, his resolve crumbles as fast as it had appeared. He can't leave, and the proof is in his shaking hand as it hovers just over the door handle. He cares too much. What if he leaves and Steve ends up dying? He bites his lip in a show of indecisiveness and looks over his shoulder. It's a hard picture to stomach, what with the bed, floor, and Steve himself covered in a thin dried coating of blood.

He should leave but...where will he go? The Nether is no home to him. The chances that he will find someone like Steve are next to nothing. Steve knew, when they met, just who he was and yet still treated him with a kindness Herobrine had not known before despite Herobrine's deplorable behavior. Steve treated him like an equal, not someone to fear and not someone to pity. Just...someone. And having heard Steve's story, Herobrine knows how he could have done that—because they are the same.

Herobrine rights the chair and takes a seat again. As long as Steve needs him, he'll be here.

The day passes, and even though the sun never showed itself, he knows that night has come again. Steve hasn't moved at all, but Herobrine has hope.

The sun will rise soon again and Herobrine is sitting with his head tilted back at the ceiling when he hears the rustling of cloth. He snaps to attention, wondering if Steve's waking up, but the miner simply takes a deep breath and sighs. However, his hands shift where they had not before, and his breathing comes easier.

He doesn't realize he's sitting at the edge of his seat until he leans back in his chair. That is a good sign. Steve'll be okay. Everything will be right once more. There's still doubt weighing heavily in the back of his mind but he ignores it; his friend is more important.

For the rest of the night and well into the next day, Herobrine sits and watches dutifully over his friend, willing him back to health and smiling as wide as he ever has when Steve's eyes finally open.


	11. Live A Life You Will Remember

Steve's fine.

Really, he feels great. His energy is up, he wants to do stuff again, as is normal for him. He enjoys more than anything being outside, especially when his only alternative is to be confined in a house all day. He's grown healthy again, and his mentality is unchanged, despite having been nearly fatally wounded. And he's accepted that: he'd been stabbed through the stomach. Not the easiest thing to come back from, believe him. But he likes to think he's done it; he's moved on with his life.

If only he hadn't been the only one.

After having come to on his blood stained bed almost three weeks ago, Steve had worked towards a return to normalcy, and he'd had the help of his savior, to whom he owes his life. Twice now. But while Steve had pushed through it all—the pain, the slow healing, the frustration—Herobrine seemed stuck in the past, reliving the events over and over again. It's beginning to effect him in adverse ways—beginning to affect them both.

In the wake of Steve's recovery, Herobrine has become his second shadow. Never more than a few steps behind him, Steve can't walk across his house without the guy asking him,  _"Are you well?"_  or  _"Do you need help?"_  It's endearing and incredibly thoughtful, not to mention a testament to just how much Herobrine has changed over the expanse of their friendship, but Notch help him if he has to hear another question about his health he's going to flip out.

But how can he fault the guy? This is where the guilt comes barreling in, squashing down his protests just as they rise to the tip of his tongue, somehow making him feel even  _more_  guilty. How could he yell at the guy who had saved his life? And he can see the worry and relief and genuine care in Herobrine's face every time he looks at the guy; Herobrine's not being exactly subtle with his displays of concern. He stands near Steve all throughout the day, mostly quiet save a repeated question about his health every so often, but inside Steve thinks the poor guy must be a mess. Herobrine is not stupid. He has to know that what he's doing is boiling down Steve's patience, and sooner or later, he'll have to deal with the fallout. Maybe he's hoping to wait it out as long as possible?

With two saves of Steve's life under his belt, he's going to be waiting a long time for that to happen.

On some days there are phantom pains. If he bends down too quickly his gut will pinch and send him shooting back up straight, a quick gasp escaping his lips. The pain always subsides quickly, and never fails to produce a concerned and well meaning question from Herobrine, no matter how many times Steve replies with,  _"I'm fine._ "

When he goes to bed he stairs up at the ceiling and in the tortuous amount of time it takes him to fall asleep, he allows his mind—sometimes against his will, sometimes with his encouragement—to go back to that nether fortress, to put himself in his own shoes again and relive the moments, both before, during, and after the stabbing. He hadn't noticed the wither skeleton until the clanking of its bones had been close enough to hear over the sounds of blazes and roaring, crackling fires. Wither skeletons are faster than normal skeletons, it had been too close, and he'd never fought one before. In that moment, it's crude stone sword had looked like the toughest, most deadly weapon in the world, and he'd been frozen in the spot as it run at him. And when he finally regained some sense of self, his cry for help had been cut brutally short. He'll never forget that pain, and he counts himself lucky that not only did he pass out shortly after and avoid the worst of the agony, but that he woke up again, and to a smile no less.

Notch must have been looking out for him that day.

Sometimes he gets nightmares. They're more flashes and jumbled memories than anything concrete but on more than one occasion he's found himself gasping or screaming awake, struggling to breathe over an injury that has healed already. And of course Herobrine is there—previously, Herobrine had spent the night outside, doing whatever he can to pass the time, but while Steve had been healing he'd spent the nights sitting quietly on the other side of the room, just in case. Even though Steve had healed, neither of them bothered mentioning that he didn't have to do that anymore. As it is, as soon as Steve wakes up the questions come in rapid fire, and has to assure Herobrine numerous times that he's  _fine, it was just a dream._

On a level it feels nice having someone to care for him again. The librarian who had showed him kindness all those years ago will always be remembered in his heart, and he knows he'll never forget his friendship with the most unlikely of people. Herobrine is his only friend, and had saved his life more than once. He'd never repay that debt.

So he endures.

A few more days pass and it doesn't get any easier. All pain is gone. The potions have worked their magic and restored him to full health, and he's sure that Herobrine had probably tried willing him back to good health, especially when he'd been unconscious.

He'd hoped that being fully recovered would have made Herobrine back off, but no. During the day Steve has managed to convince Herobrine he doesn't have to follow him around so closely anymore, and during the night Herobrine has retreated back outside, where Steve can sometimes hear the sounds of mobs dying as they, presumably, get too close to his house.

The nightmares aren't so bad anymore. The nether is a scary place on its own, but the fear of it has been eclipsed by his memory of being attacked, which he's grown to accept, making the nether in general less threatening to him. He's not any more afraid of wither skeletons than he was before the attack, but in all honesty, he'll probably never return to the nether. He'd die a happy man if he never sees the hellish place again.

In the mornings, Herobrine usually stands near the bed, waiting nervously for him to wake up. The look on his face says it all; he fears Steve won't open his eyes, won't be  _alive_. And even though the sheets and blanket, and floor had all been cleaned of blood, there's no doubt in Steve's mind that when Herobrine sees him on his bed, it's surrounded by his own blood and nearly dead.

On this particular morning, however, Herobrine is nowhere to be seen. After surveying the room briefly, Steve falls back onto his bed and revels in the rare alone time it seems he never gets any more. Some few minutes later he finally gets out of bed and throws on some clothes, dully noting to himself that his supply of shirts is running dangerously low and he should probably do something about it.

He walks out into the warm morning sun and stretches before looking around again. Despite being driven up a wall by Herobrine's obsessively protective and intrusive recent behavior, it doesn't mean that Steve wants him to suddenly disappear. That's the opposite of what he wants. Is it too much to ask for everything to be normal again?

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye near the sheep pen, he goes to investigate and there he finds Herobrine, sitting against the fences and...sewing?

"Uh...good morning?" Steve says, baffled. Herobrine looks up briefly before returning to...whatever he's doing.

"Good morning," he says politely, pausing in his ministrations as Steve sits down across from him. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, yeah...no nightmares or anything, this time. I think they might be fading."

Returning to his task, Herobrine nods. "That is good news. I feared you might suffer far longer, but I should have given you more credit. You are an exceptionally strong willed human being, after all."

"Uh, t-thanks," Steve stutters, rubbing his neck nervously. This 180 degree switch has thrown him for a loop. Is he missing something? "What are you doing?"

Herobrine stops in his actions once again, holding the fabric in his hands still, his eyes remaining cast downward. In the silence that follows, Steve notices just what is resting in Herobrine's hands—his shirt from the nether. One of the holes is almost completely sewn together. Oh.

"I—I figured I could fix your shirt," Herobrine starts, looking back up at him. At times like this Steve wishes Herobrine had different eyes, so that he might be able to read the man better, but his blank white eyes reveal nothing, unlike his voice, which is unusually quiet and heavy. "It's the least I can do. I know..." Herobrine sighs and shakes his head. "I know that my behavior has been taxing on you. I know that it bothers you and tests your patience, and honestly I find myself wondering why you've yet to say something. You've shown incredible restraint and a strength that I find has left me. I..." Herobrine looks down—away—and fiddles with the shirt in his lap. "I don't know what else to do."

In the wake of Herobrine practically pouring his heart out, Steve remains quietly and mulls his words over. And instead of agreeing, or disagreeing, he brings his knees up to his chest, wraps his arms around them, and asks, "How did you learn how to sew? That looks pretty good to me."

It's slight, but Herobrine's face has never looked so relieved, or grateful, for a topic change. "It is a lesson I had to learn many years ago. When I first became like I am now, mobs would still try to attack me, and though I could fight them easily enough, I had not been too careful with my own safety. My wounds healed, but my clothes did not mend themselves. In the beginning I stole clothing, but that became too much of a hassle. Back then, if I came across a village, there was a very high chance that I would destroy it. It appalls me, the lack of restraint I had." Herobrine shrugs. "Eventually I decided to simply fix my own clothing, should I ever need to. It's not the best—you can tell there had been a hole here," he says, holding out Steve's shirt. Sure enough, as well done as the work looks, it  _is_  pretty clear that a hole had previously been there. Still, better than any time Steve attempted to fix his clothes.

"You're better than me," Steve says. "I think—" Steve stretches out his right leg and twists it to the side, "Yeah, look right here," he says, holding the bottom of his jeans out. There is a line of dulled yellow string, messily holding a hole closed. "That hole was caused by a chicken, by the way. And don't ask about the yellow string—me and my sheep were not seeing eye to eye that day, let's just go with that."

The tired and plain unhappy look that had weighed down Herobrine's face had been replaced by a small but amused smile, and a calmness had overtaken him, especially in the way his posture has relaxed during the conversation. Smiling himself, Steve moves to sit next to Herobrine, back resting against the fence as well. "Can I watch?"

"Of course," Herobrine says, and continues with sewing up the hole. He finishes the front and moves to the back, explaining as he goes what he's doing and what Steve can do in the future to fix his own clothing better. Steve watches in rapt attention, and an off thought crosses him mind—who could have guessed he'd be sitting against a sheep pen next to  _Herobrine_ , learning how to sew clothes back together, after the guy had saved his life?

Life has a funny way of surprising you.

When the shirt is done and the hole patched up nicely, Herobrine hands it off to Steve and then twirls the needle and thread around in his fingers, his expression turning serious again. Steve waits patiently for him to say something, recognizing that there's something heavy on his mind.

"When...when I brought you back," Herobrine says, startling Steve with his choice of topic. There really isn't anything else it could have been, but it's still a surprise. "When I brought you back there was a point where I was...conflicted. I had given you potions, I had wrapped the wound the best I could, and then there was nothing left for me to do. I've never felt so useless before, so powerless. It's not a feeling I ever want to feel again." Herobrine sighs and wipes his hands down his face. "I almost left."

He lets that sink in. "Left as in...?"

"I almost ran, like a coward, and most likely would have left you to die."

"Oh."

As soon as it leaves his mouth Steve internally slaps himself.  _Oh?_  Could he  _be_  any more eloquent? Jeez.

He turns to find Herobrine staring at him, and he backtracks quickly. "Not 'oh' in a bad way, 'oh' in a, uh...I just, I-I didn't know that. Why didn't you?"

Herobrine holds his gaze. "Where would I go?"

The intensity of Herobrine's eyes are hard to hold up against, so Steve's the first to look away. He rubs his palms on his jeans. He doesn't know how to respond.

"Our friendship has been the best and worst thing to happen to me, and I hope you can understand what I mean when I say that. Humans are not as bad as I had thought, though I still have a lot to learn, and you have helped me tremendously. But...you are mortal. You are vulnerable to injury and disease and normal ailments humans are susceptible to, and that is hard for me to remember sometimes. I had wanted to leave, but found I had no where to go—or maybe, no where I wanted to go. I don't belong in this world, and seeing—"

"You're wrong," Steve says vehemently, cutting Herobrine off. Herobrine turns to him, confused. "You belong in this world more than anyone else, even me." He can tell that Herobrine wants to refute his claim, but Steve continues before he can. "And don't try to deny it!" He says, "You really do. Your life has been hardship after hardship, and I can't even begin to imagine all the pain you've suffered. Even if I multiply the pain from my own past by a thousand, it wouldn't come close to your level. I know you don't like talking about Notch, but he put you in this world for a reason, didn't he? Maybe you've just yet to fulfill your purpose? Who knows? I can't even pretend to know what I'm talking about when it comes to matter of The Aether Gods, but maybe avoiding and hating humans isn't what you should be doing with your life. I got lucky when we met—my resemblance to you saved my life that day, I know that. There was nothing else on your mind than the fact that a human looked exactly like you and you were curious about that, right?"

Herobrine nods slowly—reluctantly almost, as if ashamed. Steve's life had indeed been spared solely on the fact that they looked similar.

"And it doesn't bother me. But what does is that you're spending your life confined to just me." Steve pauses, catching his breath and letting his thoughts sort themselves out. "I think...I think you  _should_  leave."

The silence is deafening. Herobrine's face is the epitome of shocked. "Excuse me?"

"Really, I think you should. And not because I'm tired of you, or because your hovering and overprotectiveness has bothered me the last few days. You should go to the farthest shores and the tallest mountains and if you have already you should do it again, but take with you the knowledge of everything you've learned just by being my friend. Observe humans with new eyes, don't be so quick to judge them, give them the benefit of the doubt. Because one day, whether you wish for it or not, I will leave this world. I may grow old and die, or I might be struck down by a mob, or I might be crushed under a landslide. There's no way of knowing if I'll die tomorrow or sixty years from now. And that doesn't stop me from throwing myself into danger time and time again, as you've come to know. When I am gone, I don't want you to dwell on times like now, when you made a mistake and I got hurt because of it. I want you to think back fondly on all the  _fun_  we had, all the times we have explored and hopefully will explore, in the future. But more than anything, I don't want to leave you alone when I'm gone. I want to be your friend to the very end but I want there to be someone else out there to whom you can turn to for companionship when I can no longer provide it. But you won't find that here, sitting on the ground sewing shirts back together and worrying about whether or not I have a nightmare. So you should leave. You should experience the world as it is with a newer, better outlook on life, and should you ever feel yourself giving up just think of me and know that I believe in you, that you can find an inner peace and that someday, you'll return to me. I love you like a brother, and I think that this would be best."

If Herobrine allowed himself to be more human, if he had a lesser amount of control over himself and his emotions, Steve's pretty sure he'd be bawling right about now, and his opened mouth and stunned expression confirms it. Steve's even tearing up a little, since the prospect of being alone isn't one he finds appealing, but he knows and understands that something like this will ultimately be good for the both of them. Herobrine had only seen the world through hatred; now he needed to see the world through careful optimism. And Steve's willing to sacrifice their friendship for a few weeks, months, years—however long it takes Herobrine to finally  _see,_  to accept his place in a world where he is unique.

"I—I don't know what to say," Herobrine finally admits, and Steve smiles before standing up and pulling Herobrine up with him.

"You don't have to say anything," Steve assures, giving Herobrine a hug. He can count on one hand the number of times he's hugged Herobrine, and he can't wait to do it again, whenever they happen to meet again. Hopefully it'll go over a lot smoother than their first meeting. "Just go. I'll be waiting," he says, pulling back and stepping away. His smiles turns a little sad and the tears building in his eyes finally fall. He doesn't bother wiping them away. He's not afraid of showing that he's sad, that this means a lot to him.

In all his life, Herobrine's come to the cusp of crying more times in the last month than in the entirety of his life. And the thing is, he doesn't know why. Every day with Steve has exposed him to human emotions and tendencies and behaviors and he's finally starting to get it, he thinks. Perhaps it's empathy; maybe it's a start to something greater, like Steve had hinted at. What had Notch put him on this world for? Whatever the answer, death and destruction and hatred isn't it, and that opens up a new route in his life—to find his true purpose. But to leave Steve, his only friend...it's hard, but he has to, and Steve's words have made him realize it. Still. Leaving means leaving Steve alone, and that's something that'll sit heavy with him in his travels.

"What about you?" He accuses. "You talk of not being alone and yet my departure, which you push so strongly for, will leave you without a companion. What flawed logic is this?"

Steve smiles and claps his shoulder. "Listen, I can handle being alone. It's you who has to worry about functioning without another human being around. If my near death experience is anything to go by, you need some help, and traveling the world will do the trick, I  _know_  it will. I'll be alright, you don't have to worry about me." Steve shakes him a little before pushing him gently toward the forest. "You should go."

"I don't know how to thank you," Herobrine says, letting himself be pushed. Steve shakes his head.

"You saved my life. That's all the thanks I need. But if you still want to, do it when you get back. I'll be looking forward to it."

* * *

They hug once more, as friends, as brothers, and then part ways.

And in the Aether, having overlooked and overheard that conversation, Notch sits with his back to the great barrier between worlds and feels almost overwhelmed with pride for his favorite creation. He can't ask for a better human being to be alive, and wishes desperately that Steve had indeed inspired Herobrine to go out and see the world in the way Notch had originally intended for him to.

As something beautiful, and connected, and whole.


	12. If Only I Had Known...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here I am, back with the next chapter. Like promised we are now in the past in the overall time line, where Steve and Herobrine have only just met, as is shown in this very chapter. I have some ideas as to what each chapter will be about so hopefully I can get those written up soon.
> 
> Since every chapter before this was pretty much Herobrine teaching Steve something, I think these chaps will be Steve teaching Herobrine something.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait and enjoy!

Sunlight pours in through the window, bathing the small room in golden light. With the rising sun so rises Steve, a young miner looking forlornly into his ore chest. A chest which is, to his dismay, dangerously empty and pathetic looking. Three diamonds and a few dozen iron ingots stare up at him.

Steve sighs and shuts the chest, resigning to spend the day underground. Don't get him wrong, he loves mining, but he misses the sunlight, the fresh air, the green grass. Gray, dirty stone and dark caves make a poor substitute.

Still, a quiet life is not the one for a miner.

He eats breakfast and packs a bag of bread and torches before hauling his pack onto his back. He makes quick work of securing it, as well as his iron sword around his waist before grabbing his pickaxe on his way out the door.

The early morning sunlight hits his face and warms him greatly. As he gazes out over the plains and the distant jungle, he can't help but fall in love with the land all over again. This is why he loves living, the gently waving trees, the pretty and colorful flowers in abundance, and the farm animals grazing nearby. Someday he'll make pens for all of them, though he wishes he had help caring for them.

He leaves those thoughts for later and sets out to the ravine he'd found some days ago while exploring a cave. In his many years as a miner he's seen a lot of crazy geography, but ravines within ravines are one of his favorite phenomenons. Because then not only does he get the pleasure of exploring one ravine, but usually the second one is lower towards bedrock, where the diamonds lie. And that works perfectly fine for his current task. If he wants to keep living where he lives, and he truly does, he's going to need there to be plenty of readily available diamonds and iron. This ravine should prove fruitful.

Hopefully.

Steve is nothing if not optimistic.

The entrance to the mine is marked by a strap of cyan cloth, ripped from his shirt the first time he'd found the cave. His shirt had nearly been in pieces anyway, torn and burned and barely hanging together. Might as well give it good use. A line of torches light the path down to the depths of the world, where hopefully many gems and ores await him. His cursory scout of the ravines had revealed surface iron and gold, but no diamonds. He'd have to set up some strip mines if he wanted to find those. As he starts his descent he thinks maybe he'll do that before he leaves, if his luck runs dry this day.

It's a long walk down the stairs, but the small tunnel opens up to a large cave, safely lit with torches to keep those persistent mobs away from him as much as possible. He hates fighting mobs and will do anything to avoid it.

Luckily no skeletons or zombies are waiting for him, thanks to the torch light, so he heads straight on through the cave to the mouth of the ravine. The cave leads to a large hole in the side of the cavern, where he can see both ravines fairly easily. The dull iron ore to his right catches his eye first, and he sets to work clearing the ravine of all surface ores.

After several hours of hard work, Steve stands on the ledge near the ceiling, clutching desperately to the wall, his heart pounding in his chest. A zombie had just turn the corner right in front of him, almost giving him a heart attack and knocking him to all the way to the floor, where he surely would have busted his head open. If he peeks over the ledge he can see the zombie suffering from just that, though since its already dead, a busted head doesn't even faze it. But with its limited brain power its already forgotten he's there.

Lucky for him, but not lucky for his heart, which is fit to burst from his chest. He's probably lost a few years of his life with that scare.

As he lets his breathing return to normal, and his heart regain its normal beating pattern, he spots a bright blue shine on the other side of the wall. He leans as much as he dares to the right and squints to be sure that yes, its a diamond, and its taunting him from its position on the wall. If he wants it he'll either have to go all the way around before building up to it, which will take time and effort, or he can bridge over to it from here, though he risks potentially slipping and falling to his death.

Hmmm.

Take the safe way around, or get the diamond right away.

...He's desperate and he needs to lay down after that scare.

 _I'll probably regret this,_  Steve says as he starts bridging across the large gap between ravine walls.

* * *

Fire rages and lava bubbles hotly in the fiery depths of the Nether. A fortress towers over a lava ocean, and inside it, a young man looks down in disdain at the contents of a chest, and the fact that its completely empty astounds him.

At one time the chest had been too full to close, stacked with diamonds, emeralds, gold, and iron, but now it's home to dust and emptiness.

Herobrine can't believe he's broke.

He kicks the chest angrily, causing it to slide roughly against the nether brick and hit some other empty chests. Seeing them just makes them angrier, especially since that means he's going to have to take a trip to the Overworld for resources, a place he despises more than the Nether. At one point he would have gladly jumped at the chance to terrorize the Overworld, but now he wants nothing to do with it.

Sighing harshly, he grabs a busted up diamond pickaxe and goes off in search of a nether portal.

He appears in what appears to be a sealed off cave, going by the poorly stacked cobblestone by the cave's entrance. He doesn't bother mining himself a way out, instead teleporting directly to the surface.

The bright light of the sun hits his face and he glowers at it, sickened by the bright and colorful landscape. The Nether's darker hues of red and brown are easy on the eyes, while the Overworld's an eyesore if he ever saw one. And no he doesn't think so just out of spite.

He sees a small and simple wood house and has half a mind to burn it to the ground, but bypasses it entirely on his way to a cave opening. He passes by a torch and a blue cloth tied to a fence post on his way down.

The roomy tunnel down is lined with torches, so someone's been here recently. As much as he'd delight in killing however might be mining down here, he'd rather avoid anyone if at all possible. His reputation precedes him when it names him a mindless killer, though he happily embraces that persona. But he's not in the mood to deal with whining, sniveling worthless humans he doesn't care anything about. He wants diamonds and iron, then he wants to leave.

He explores the cave briefly, deciding that heading down towards bedrock might be his best bet, if he remembers where diamonds are correctly.

He collects any and all ores he sees, from iron to lapis and redstone, which is utterly useless but why not? The cave he's in bends up a little, and turning a corner he spots diamonds in the wall.

"Finally," he mutters, making a beeline for it. The sooner he gets as much as he deems necessary, the sooner he can leave the Overworld.

* * *

Steve leans against the wall, hoping he doesn't have a heart attack. Between the zombie and his clumsiness, he's probably shaved a few years off his life.

But he's made it across the gap, and the shining diamond in the wall is all he needs to see to make everything worth it. While there's only one in the wall he can see, hopefully there's more behind it.

He sets a torch at his feet and takes his pickaxe from his belt. After this diamond—hopefully diamond _s—_ he's going to retreat back to his house and lie down.

Before he can even touch his pickaxe to the wall, the diamond studded wall breaks apart and diamonds fall to the floor. But Steve doesn't bother watching them nor collecting them because on the other side of the wall is a face.

Yelling out in shock, Steve forgets that he's on a precarious ledge and stumbles back. Predictably, he loses his footing and falls.

A hand grabs his hard and catches him, but he slams face first into the wall, losing consciousness quickly after.

* * *

Herobrine takes a deep breath and hauls the human back onto solid ground. He doesn't know why he grabbed the human in the first place; he did it on an instinct he can't explain.

He's annoyed though, that he's even getting involved in some humans worthless life. But as he lays the kid out on the ground, he can't help but sit back and gawk.

This human looks unbelievably similar to him. He could easily be looking into a mirror as he stares at the human. Perhaps that's the reason he saved the guy? Because they look so much alike?

Huffing, Herobrine stands up, collects his diamond and starts walking away, content to be on his merry way. He doesn't make it very far before stopping and looking back at the human. Still unconscious, he'll either bleed to death or die at the hands of a mob. Normally Herobrine would be okay with abandoning someone he doesn't know, but the fact they look so similar makes him rethink that. Is there a reason they look the same? Does it have anything to do with...Notch?

Herobrine clenches his fist and takes a calming breath. If there's any chance this human knows anything, Herobrine can't just let him die.

He walks back over and hesitates to do much else. Staring down at the human makes him want to help less and less, especially since he'd been injured by Herobrine's initial rescue, if the bloody gash on his head is anything to go by. Not only does he have to take the human back to the surface, he has to insure the human's survival too.

Not anything like what he wanted when he came here.

Reluctantly, he picks the human up and slings him over his shoulder, then decides teleporting to the surface would be way faster.

The bright sunlight burns his eyes slightly and he scowls, bringing a hand up to block it. He wishes he could destroy the sun so as to never deal with it again. Maybe then he'd be more inclined to visit the Overworld.

He looks around and notices the wood cabin he'd seen before. Whether or not this house belongs to this human is not of his concern, so he forces the door open and sets the human haphazardly on the bed. With that accomplished, he steps back and looks around.

Nothing of interest catches his attention, so he returns his attention to the human and the inevitable. If he wants his answers, the human needs to be awake. And to be awake, he needs to be alive first.

There's no immediate cloth that he can see, and he doesn't really want to use his own shirt. He eyes the human's torn up bloodied shirt and doesn't feel bad ripping it from the human's body and into thin strips that he then wraps somewhat around the human's head wound. He doesn't care enough to clean it or anything, half hoping that the human ends up dying anyway and Herobrine can ignore ever seeing him. But the curious side of him can't get over the fact of their shared appearance.

He looks around once more and notices some chests. Not caring whether or not the human wakes, Herobrine opens them up. One has a few diamonds and iron ingots, most have cobblestone and wood. One which immediately grabs his attention is a single chest by the door, inside of which has some potions.

He doesn't notice a brewing stand though, so he wonders how in the Nether the human acquired them, but he recognizes the potions of regeneration and healing right away.

Taking them out of the chest he dislikes that they aren't splash potions. He's unwilling to touch the human more than he strictly needs to, so with one look to the still sleeping human, Herobrine takes the potions to the Nether to convert them to splash potions.

When he returns—and oh how hard it was coming back—the human is still asleep. The sight fills him with an infuriating and unexplainable sense of fear for the human's life, which he pushes away. He takes the potions and throws both of them onto the human, hoping that it's enough for the human to survive with. His efforts prove useful when a few minutes later the human stirs and opens his eyes.

* * *

With a massive headache, Steve wakes up to bright sunlight and the familiar sight of his home. Confusion clouds his mind as he tries to remember how he got here, and why he feels cold. He sits up and puts a hand on his head, hissing in pain and drawing his hand back quickly. His head is killing him, and when he looks down his shirt is missing.

"Wha—" He looks around and notices the man staring somewhat angrily at him and flinches.

"Who are you? Why—What happened?"

For a second the man doesn't say anything before he takes a few steps towards him. Steve, already backed up against the window on his bed can't do anything before the man is right in front of his face. This is when Steve notices the man looks extremely familiar, except for the burning white eyes.

For a few seconds they stay like that until the stranger narrows his eyes. "Who are you?" He says calmly. Steve's eyes widen as he tries to think of what to say. His silence must have angered the stranger because the man suddenly grabs his face and forces him to look at him.

"Answer my questions and don't lie to me," he says darkly. "Unless you want to die."

Breath starting to come quicker, Steve stammers out, "S-Steve. My name's Steve."

He would ask the same question, but he's fearing for his safety at this point, plus he's pretty sure he's got a good idea already of who this is, if the legends are to be believed. Subconsciously, he tries not to move in the hopes of minimizing his chance of provoking the stranger.

After an intense scrutinizing during which Steve prays he's having a horrible nightmare, the stranger let's him go and move back, finally giving Steve some room to breathe.

"Do you know who Notch is?" The stranger asks. Steve rubs absentmindedly at his jaw.

"The Creator?"

"What else."

He doesn't particularly like how this guy is stating questions instead of asking them. How did his day spiral so far out of control?

"What else!" The man says suddenly and forcefully, causing Steve to jump in startled fear.

"Nothing! I swear it, I know nothing else of the Creator!"

* * *

Humans are such lowly, pathetic creatures.

Herobrine watches in disgust and prideful anger as the human, Steve, cowers from him. The proper place for a human, surely, but still it proves them as the worthless beings they are.

Herobrine isn't inclined to believe Steve, but he backs away anyway. It's obvious to him his presence scares the human, but he might just leave. He won't get his answers, and the human is alive. He has no reason to stay.

Scowling, he turns around and walks towards the door, surprised when Steve calls to him.

"Wait!"

He obliges and stops, wondering if this human has a death wish.

"You're..." Steve cuts himself off and Herobrine turns around, interested despite himself. "You're...Herobrine, right?"

He can't keep the shock completely off his face. This human knows him, his name and probably his legend, and yet prevents him from leaving? Calls to him instead of letting him walk out of his life forever? He's intrigued.

"Correct," Herobrine says, turning fully around and smiling a shark's smile. "And you know this...?"

Steve gulps and cowers away still, and Herobrine internally scoffs. Weak.

"I've seen...I've seen the legends a-and the tales on the temple walls," Steve says, gaining courage and stepping from the bed to stand on his own. "It's always been interesting to me."

"Is that so," Herobrine says with an air of disinterest masked with superiority. "Then you know what I am capable of and yet you will not let me leave."

"I—" Herobrine teleports directly in front of the human and startles him, making Steve flinch but he stands his ground and does not back up, to Herobrine's surprise. This human is certainly more interesting than he looks.

"Do you truly know who I am?" He sneers, pushing the human to the wall with a hand to his throat, allowing no room for breath or speech. "Do you know what I can do to you on a whim? Your life means  _nothing_  to me."

The human struggles around the hand constricting his throat and Herobrine lets him enough air to speak.

"I k-know t-that...you've b-been...alone," Steve wheezes out, and Herobrine's grip slackens from the pure and genuine shock he experiences from how unexpected that statement had been. He drops his hand from the human as if burned and steps back.

* * *

Steve drops to his knees and coughs, air rushing back roughly into his lungs. His headache from earlier returns with a vengeance.

He looks up through the tears of pain and sees Herobrine still standing in his house. Part of him wants Herobrine to leave and never come back, but another part is glad to have met him.

He stands up on shaky legs as his throat stops burning with every pass of air. He swallows a few times and clears his throat.

"I've explored temples, both jungle and desert," Steve begins. "I've studied the paintings and the carvings all my life, since the first time I saw them."

"Then...then you know what a vile and evil demon I am, unworthy of life and not to be trusted."

"I...I do know," he agrees. "But not the way you might expect."

Herobrine watches him without saying anything for a few seconds. Steve wonders if Herobrine's so far, all-things-considering attitude is about to turn sour. Despite not entirely believing the legends about Herobrine, he still knows what the man is capable of.

However, Herobrine only glares at him. "I've done what I came here to do," he says, turning his back to Steve. "Pray you never cross my path again." And then he's gone.

Steve sighs and sits on his bed. The realization that he could have died rushes at him and makes his head swim. He looks out the window and despite all that just happened and Herobrine's warning, he hopes that they  _do_  meet again.

He lays down on his bed and gets some rest, resigning to wait until tomorrow to continue mining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Herobrine says he doesn't want to meet Steve again but I think we all know that's just not true.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's reviewed or given kudos or both!


	13. What I Was Getting Myself Into

When Steve wakes up the next morning the sky is overcast.

He sits up and looks out his window, watching as small raindrops splash against it. He brings his knees up and wraps his arms around them as a calm and gentle rain starts.

He's feeling very conflicted. He wouldn't mind missing a day of rain for the mines, but Herobrine's warning from yesterday makes him hesitant.

His curiosity has always been insatiable though.

He argues with himself the entire time he gets dressed, weighing the pros and cons and asking himself what the worst possible outcome could be. If Herobrine is even still around what are the chances of them crossing paths again? And if they happen to, would Herobrine make good on his threat?(And come to think of it, what would Herobrine do? Hurt him? Kill him? Did he want to risk finding out?) Then there's the chance that Herobrine had left, in which case he'd be wasting his day inside when he could be mining.

As he stands in front of his door, his pack readied for several hours worth of strip mining—if need be—lightning strikes outside and makes him jump. His nerves are frayed and he's probably too jumpy to be heading out to the mines but...

Steve runs quickly through the rain and down into the mines.

* * *

From atop the wooden house, unbeknownst to the human, Herobrine watches as Steve rushes through the rain and descends into the mines they first encountered each other.

He knows what simple and stupid creatures humans can be, but this is ridiculous.

Maybe his warning hadn't been threatening enough? If they ever met again he'd kill Steve, he'd thought he'd made that pretty clear. Maybe this human was even dumber than the others?

Whatever the case, Herobrine jumps from the house onto the ground and walks towards the entrance to the tunnel. He pauses briefly in front of it, looking down into the darkness curiously. Though apparently harboring a death wish, this human does seem interesting...that he'd risk punishment to continue mining for ores is admirable, and Herobrine wonders, if he just observes the human, what kind of haul he'll have at the end of the day. And maybe Herobrine can strong-arm his way to some shiny new diamonds?

A small yet devious smile tugging at his lips, Herobrine follows Steve into the cave.

* * *

"Oh  _shoot_ ," Steve whispered to himself, wiping water from his face quickly before continuing to strike his flint and steel together. "Come on,  _come on!_ " No luck, as the dowsed torch at his feet remains unlit, as do the several next to it.

Huffing in annoyance at his incredibly bad luck, Steve tosses the flint and steel away and glares at the general darkness. Stupid zombies, stupid creepers, stupid holes in the ground, stupid cave system. And most importantly, stupid water.

His eyes settle on the pool of water next to him, which invariably saved his life a few moments ago yet now has caused him great discomfort as his clothes cling wetly and awkwardly to his skin.

Not ten minutes ago a creeper and zombie had surprised him while he'd been exploring the bottom of the second ravine. He'd defended himself from the zombie but in doing so left an opening for the creeper to get close enough and detonate itself. He blocked, so his sword had taken the brunt of the explosion—which had revealed another cave below the ravine—but he'd forgotten about the zombie, which, of course, had pushed him into the hole. That's why he's thankful the pool had been there, because otherwise he might have been dealing with some busted limbs instead of wet clothing.

Steve looks at his useless torches. Of course, his clothes hadn't been the only thing soaked in his impromptu swim. A little bit of light from the torches a few blocks above him shine into this new cave, but only provide light so far until total blackness is all he sees.

He sighs.

Forget Herobrine. Stress alone is going to be the death of him.

A sound from beyond the darkness makes the hair on the back of neck stand on end. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but his beating heart betrays his outwardly calmness.

Somewhere, just beyond his sight, is an enderman.

* * *

Oh, this should be fun.

Herobrine watches, completely passive, as Steve fights the mobs before falling into the hole.

He's never quite understood why humans fear mobs so much.

As a being superior to both in every way, he finds dealing with mobs messy and boring. He has the ability to suppress his power, which he takes advantage of greatly, but which also means they tend to ignore him. He can make himself seem like the weakest of bunnies or a charged creeper depending on his needs, which affects the mobs' behavior significantly. And doing this is second nature to him.

So he doesn't see what there is to fear from one enderman. And Steve is not just radiating fear—he's radiating terror.

Herobrine has never experienced an enderman's rage, at least not that he can remember. He's looked at them plenty, even touched some, yet they look away and pretend as if he isn't there, or isn't a threat. But he very much is and when he attacks them they fight back, confusing Herobrine even more to their intentions.

Whatever the enderman tries to do, he thinks he'll slay it if things get out of hand. Not because he cares, he's just not done observing the miner. He won't allow one enderman to spoil his fun. Also, Herobrine would like the pleasure of killing Steve himself if the human can't even defend himself from one enderman.

Even though there's a sizable distance between them, if he quiets himself he can hear Steve's ragged breathing, and if he really focuses he can feel the vibrations of Steve's pounding heart. The heavy rhythmic thumps bring back memories of hunting humans in the dark for fun, following them more by sound than by sight.

His own heart speeds up to match, as if he were down there, stalking a human through the darkness. He almost wants Steve to fight the enderman for some entertainment, but a little nagging voice in the back of his head tells him what a bad idea that would be, just in case. It'd be better if Steve lives.

...Not that he cares.

The enderman, from Steve's reactions, appears to have gotten closer, perhaps visible now? But all he can see of the cave from his higher position is the pool of water. And that just won't do. He jumps down from the ledge and lands silently, making sure to keep a tight grip on his power so as to not scare the enderman. Or Steve, for that matter.

From this new vantage he can see Steve but not the enderman, though that doesn't concern him. He'll wait this encounter out and see how Steve fairs. Depending on the outcome Steve might just live this day.

* * *

It's hard for Steve to not look at the enderman. It's instinct to look—every other mob, if he didn't watch them he'd die in a matter of seconds. But with endermen, he can't look because then he'd be dead for sure.

But still, the fact that he can't look at the enderman—at the danger—brings his stress levels up to maximum. He's staring intently at the ground in front of the enderman, giving him peripheral vision of his threat but it's still hard to deal with.

Unfortunately, this is part of being a miner, something he wishes he could avoid but it's impossible. As much as he hates fighting them, he can't deny them their homes. Mobs live in caves and darkness, that's something they can't help. The best he can do is light the caves enough to make his way through them, but otherwise he respects that the light drives mobs away from their homes.

He's probably the only person in the world to respect mobs that way, but he doesn't care. He loves everything about the world, even the mobs. But that doesn't mean he has to like being near them, because he doesn't.

Enderman are probably the worst of the mobs, second maybe only to creepers. Steve wouldn't want to meet either on a good day, though the enderman might be easier to avoid. They don't get angry until looked at, something Steve unfortunately learned the hard way.

The enderman isn't a particular threat but Steve's heart is pounding in his chest nonetheless. And coupled with the earlier scare from the zombie and the creeper, his heart's going to beat itself to death.

The worst part of this is that the enderman keeps wandering closer and closer, because it pretty much doesn't even knows he's there until either he slips up and looks at it or it runs right into him. He desperately doesn't want that to happen.

Deciding he needs to do  _something_  before he ends up dead or maimed, he gathers his still wet torches and puts them in his pack, which he then slings onto his back. He takes care to step opposite the mob for every step it takes, hoping the enderman will teleport away from him before long. He even holds his breath, though he knows that won't do anything in the long run.

After waiting for a few minutes the endermen wonders too close to the water and steps in. It gives a pained shout and teleports away, startling Steve badly in the progress. He clutches at his heart and sighs deeply, glad to finally be free from that torment.

With several minutes having passed Steve tries yet again to light one of his torches, smiling in triumph as it blazes to life. The part of the cave he's in at the moment isn't very big, but opposite the pool there's a path that leads down, probably to bedrock. He doesn't know how low he is, but he's got to be close by now. Taking a break from the ravines he decides to follow the path.

* * *

Well that was anti-climatic and pathetic.

Herobrine is thoroughly unsatisfied with this turn of events. Not only was there no big showdown, but he'd forgotten that endermen are scared of water, of all things. He should have seen that coming.

And he  _shouldn't_  have expected Steve to prove entertaining anyway—from the way he fought those two mobs earlier he seems to dislike it greatly, and this only confirms that. He won't fight if he doesn't have to.

Not an exciting revelation but an interesting one.

He almost wants to abandon Steve and return to looking for ores, but he has to admit to himself that he's curious. Why can't he just end this human? This one pathetic human who doesn't even fight mobs competently.

In the end he decides to keep following Steve. Maybe—hopefully—something will happen.

* * *

Steve is extra cautious exploring this cave. Not all of his torches are dry enough to light, and he doesn't want to waste the life of the ones that will. So instead of placing them on the ground on his way through the cave, he keeps one lit and in his hand, insuring they last but also keeping the cave unsafe for his way back.

He walks for several minutes without encountering a mob or any surface ores. He finds this a little strange but doesn't dwell too much on it. Not every cave has to be plentiful, no matter how much he wants.

While walking he hears the slow shuffling of feet. He stops and cocks his head to the side, listening intently. More shuffling farther up the tunnel, slowly and without rhythm. Most likely a zombie, but could be a creeper. He holds the torch in front of him more and rounds a bend.

On the other side is a surprise, a pleasant one at that. Another ravine, yet he can hardly believe it. It's not as tall as the other two, nor is it as long, but there's something that intersects it that he's ecstatic to have found.

"Three ravines and a mineshaft? Maybe I'm not as unlucky as I thought," Steve mutters to himself, watching a creeper walk on a wooden ledge high above him, and a zombie and skeleton walk on a lower one. Undoubtedly the mineshaft will be filled with mobs, something that can't be helped. He'd be smart to return tomorrow with more torches and supplies, but...his curiosity, it drives him to explore at least a little of the mineshaft.

"Just for a little bit," he promises to himself, holding his torch high. He climbs a short way up until he's level with one of the walkways. The two above have mobs on them but luckily, as he stares into the dark corridor, he doesn't see a single one.

His torch provides little light as he walks slowly into the mineshaft. Cobwebs and broken tools litter the ground, making it difficult to walk silently. He doesn't want to attract the wrong kind of attention. The ring of light around him eventually reveals a four way intersection, and he peeks into hall briefly. Two of them show only darkness, but the third, when he walks a little bit more into it, shines light on a wall of cobwebs.

"Whoa." He's never seen so much webbing before. But the mine is very old, it makes sense spiders would have the time to accomplish this.

* * *

Herobrine stares in disbelief as Steve stops to observe the spider's nest.

He's standing behind the miner, at the intersection. He feels this display of sheer ignorance deserves death, but his weird fascination with this lowly human won't let him do nothing. Clearly, Steve's never run across cave spiders before. He'll die if Herobrine doesn't do something.

He summons a sword and teleports in front of Steve just as the first cave spider jumps at him from the webs.

Steve's short yell of surprise is drowned out by the dying screech of the cave spider as Herobrine's blade pierces its head. The body shrivels up and turns to dust as Herobrine turns around to glare.

"I expected better," he sneers, stepping towards Steve angrily and forcing him back to the intersection. He kicks the wooden supports so they tumble and block the path to the spiders' nest, giving them a safe place to talk. "Have you never fought cave spiders before?"

"Cave...spiders?" Steve asks, oblivious. Herobrine sighs in exasperation.

"You're unbelievable."

* * *

Despite the circumstances Steve is glad to see Herobrine again.

Their last encounter definitely had not ended on good terms, since he's pretty sure Herobrine had told them if they ever met again he'd kill him, yet here they are, and Herobrine's just saved his life. Though, Steve's never heard of a cave spider before.

But the adrenaline from the surprise attack has him feeling energetic, and he can't be bothered by Herobrine's sour mood.

"I didn't know there were  _cave_  spiders. How are they different from regular spiders?"

Herobrine shakes his head and looks at him in disbelief. "They're poisonous. One bite surely would have killed you."

Poison spiders? Oh. Steve suddenly realizes how close to dying he'd just been. And that fact is quickly overshadowed by another.

"But you saved my life."

Herobrine's angered look dissolves into one of contempt. "You might as well have been bound and blindfolded. I couldn't let you throw away your life like that."

A valid answer, but there's much to be desired. "Why?"

"Why what?" Herobrine asks aggressively, still glaring at him.

"Why save me?"

Herobrine doesn't say anything, and before long he turns his gaze away. "I have my reasons."

 _Sure,_  Steve thinks, smiling smugly.

Over Herobrine's shoulder Steve catches a glimpse of black hide and glowing red eyes and yells out, without thinking, "Look out!" His giddiness from earlier gone, he steps towards Herobrine, who's turned defensive from his sudden outburst, and pushes the man away just as a spider jumps towards them.

Originally intending to bite the first one's back, the spider instead sinks it's fangs into the other human's fleshy arm, drawing a short yell of pain.

On reflex alone Herobrine drives his sword through the spider, making it release its hold and screech in pain, before kicking the carcass away, turning then towards Steve, who is holding his arm gingerly.

Steve's eyes are watering from the sting but luckily the spider had not been of the poisonous variety like he'd seen earlier. Maybe if he wasn't so distracted by the pain he would have laughed at the irony. Herobrine had purposefully stopped him from getting too close to the poison spiders in an attempt to save him from injury not five minutes ago, for reasons Steve has yet to understand. And now here he is, risking life and limb saving someone he knows well does not need the saving, and getting injured in the process.

 _He doesn't look happy either,_ Steve thinks to himself, smiling sheepishly up at the glaring face above him.

"What could have possibly been going through your head just then?" Herobrine asks, clenching his fists and making no further movements. Steve can honestly say he hadn't expected Herobrine to react at all and finds secret joy that he'd killed the spider and saved Steve additional pain. "You claim to know me yet you do this? One measly spider bite is nothing more than an inconvenience to me, but to you it can be life threatening. So why then did you feel the need to do that?" Will Steve ever cease to astound him with his sheer stupidity? Somehow Herobrine doubts it.

"I...I don't know," Steve admits, finally looking down at his wound. The initial sting is lessening but a deep rooted ache is starting to set in, encompassing his entire arm from wrist to shoulder. The puncture wound is also starting to inflame and turn red, and each jostle of his arm hurts. Getting back to his house is going to be extra difficult now that he can't use one of his arms. "I just saw that you were going to be attacked and acted without thinking. I'd have done it for anyone." He shrugs. It's really not a big deal to him. Despite the way others treat him he still values all life, even those who judge him so cruelly and unfairly. He truly believes he'd have done the exact same thing no matter who was standing there.

"But you have to know a spider's bite means nothing to me. I have accelerated healing; I'm fairly sure I couldn't die even if a thousand spiders bit me all at once. And yet you still pushed me from harms way. Why?" Why is this human so frustratingly, tantalizingly fascinating? Why is he unable to keep his distance or let Steve die?

"Well, that doesn't matter to me. You were about to be attacked from behind and I acted on instinct, there's nothing more to it." He doesn't know what Herobrine wants to hear from him. He's just doing what he feels is right.

"Yes but—" Herobrine cuts himself off, watching as Steve continues smiling at him. He can't believe Steve is telling the truth, but he can't sense any doubt or fear in Steve as he sits there. He has to be telling the truth. "I find it hard to believe."

Steve grits his teeth as he stands up, trying to keep his arm as still as possible. "That's fine, but it's the truth. I don't need you to believe me."

The gall of this guy. Herobrine doesn't think any human ever has spoken to him like this. He's almost offended that Steve, a human who should be, by all rights, terrified of him, could act so careless and casual around him. He doesn't know what to make of it.

He catches Steve's uninjured arm when the miner tries to walk away, then lets go quickly as if burned when Steve looks back at him expectantly. "Where are you going?"

Steve looks at him oddly. "Home, if you'll let me. I don't think I can mine anymore, not with my arm injured. This is my mining arm, after all," he explains, pointing to his injured right arm.

"You plan to traverse the cave without the use of your arm?"

"Well...yeah? I don't have much choice." Herobrine's acting very strange, or Steve assumes he is. Having just met the guy, Steve's first impression of Herobrine had been one of intimidation, sternness, and threats, but Herobrine's turning out to be vastly different from all the legends and myths surrounding him.

* * *

"I—" Herobrine cuts himself off, leaving Steve to stand there and wait for him to speak. Why does he care?

" _I've seen...I've seen the legends a-and the tales on the temple walls."_

" _It's always been interesting to me."_

" _I k-know t-that...you've b-been alone."_

Because Steve doesn't fear him. He doesn't cower or run. He doesn't care to keep his words formal. He treats Herobrine like...like a human. Maybe even like a friend, as impossible as that seems.

"I will help you."

Steve blinks at him, his eye brows raised. "Help me?"

"Yes," he nods. "I will fight off any mobs. Come now." He starts down the mineshaft towards the ravine, pausing when he doesn't hear footsteps behind him.

"But why?" Steve asks when he turns around. And all the answer Herobrine needs to that question is provided just by looking at Steve: clutching his injured arm with dirtied and torn clothing, looking lost. And Herobrine can easily see himself in that same position.

He doesn't think he'd be doing the same if Steve looked different, but the fact of the matter is that they look too much alike to be coincidence. And he won't be satisfied until he finds out why.

"I have my reasons," Herobrine says. "Now hurry up."

 _Sure,_  Steve thinks, but he's relieved.

As Herobrine makes true to his promise and protects him from all the mobs on the way back to his house, Steve would very much like to think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.

Only time will tell.


	14. The Past I Ran From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many more chapters there will be. I have a few more ideas and then the last chapter will be when Steve and Herobrine reunite after Herobrine leaves in chapter 11. There's a little teaser there for you. I think I've come up with a suitable ending, hopefully everyone else likes it. I'm really excited to start writing it too!
> 
> The Aether here is not related to The Aether mod that is available for Minecraft. I've never used it, so I take some liberties.
> 
> Enjoy this next chapter!

They fall into some weird camaraderie after that.

Herobrine doesn't make a habit of joining Steve on mining excursions; at least, that's what he lets Steve think. The reality of the situation is that Herobrine's too invested now to leave Steve, who proves overwhelmingly to be the most hapless human he's ever dealt with. The guy's got incredible luck, both good and bad. One second he's finding a large vein of diamonds and the next he's running from a group of creepers he's unleashed by mining into their cave.

But through it all Steve is a constant source of enthusiasm and joy. The miner truly loves life and the world around him, and it takes a whole lot to bring him down from that high. At first Herobrine thought he might be sick from all the sincerity and optimism rolling off the kid like waves, but over the course of a few weeks it's become normal enough that he's not bothered by it. Steve's strange human ways still confound and infuriate him, but he doesn't want to rip the guy limb from limb anymore.

In truth he's not one hundred percent sure why he still comes back. Every night he leaves, choosing the fresh air and cool darkness over the torch light surrounding Steve's house. And every morning, whether he talks to Steve or keeps his distance, he returns all the same. He lies to himself when he says it's because he wants to understand the connection between them, for surely their appearances must mean something. While that is true, it is not a concern of his as much as it was the first time he saw Steve. Someday he'll force his answers from an Aether God, but for now he's content observing.

* * *

Looking up to check the time, Steve puts in place the final fence and stands back. He stretches, having been bent over and on the move for several hours, and takes in the new addition to his house.

He thinks he'll stay in this area for a while, long enough he'll need some animals. He'd spent most of the morning setting up a simple wheat farm, and sooner or later he'll look for some carrots or, preferably, potatoes. But bread will suffice for now.

The latter part of the morning he'd spent building a pen, which will eventually house some pigs or cows, depending on while of the docile mobs want to cooperate. Although, seeing as how pigs require carrots before they even think of obeying, maybe he'll stick with cows. A wise choice in the long run, as a cow can provide him leather, milk, and meat. And then some chickens and maybe a few sheep too, and that should last him as long as he stays here.

Building the pen had put the sun almost ready to set, the sky already turning a brilliant orange. This is one thing he absolutely loves about the world—the sunsets. For him the sun sets over the plains, which are pretty evenly flat, giving him a wide view of the sky and all its beautiful colors. It then rises again over the desert, making the window above his bed one of his favorite spots. Who doesn't want to be woken up by the warm rays of the sun?

Wiping sweat from his brow Steve leans against the newly constructed fence, closing his eyes and sighing when a gentle breeze brushes past him. When he opens his eyes again the sky has darkened considerably, more of a pale magenta verging on black than the bright and vivid orange from a few seconds ago. Or was it minutes ago?...How long were his eyes closed for?

He yawns, suddenly feeling exhausted from the day's work, and heads inside for rest. As he eats dinner and gets ready for bed, he thinks how he didn't see Herobrine once today, and that makes him a little sad. Only a little because the guy's no party, but still sad because he enjoys the company. In his situation, any welcome company is a blessing. Even with the—mostly empty—threats of death and dismemberment, Steve much more prefers Herobrine over both being alone and other people.

* * *

Today is an exceptionally gorgeous day. Herobrine's not usually one to appreciate things like that, but the sun is pleasantly warm and a cool breeze compliments it well.

He's decided to visit Steve today, purely to cure his boredom. Without bothering to terrorize other humans, his entertainment is narrowed down to one, yet he can hardly expect anything from Steve in that regard.

Once, several days ago, Herobrine had a similar whim to visit Steve, and had teleported into the house without care nor without informing Steve of his impending arrival. Apparently it isn't normal to suddenly appear in someone's house, and his sudden being there had, predicatbly in hindsight, scared Steve.

That might not have been a problem, expect Steve had been carrying a recently crafted anvil. Which is very heavy. And hard to move.

He'd dropped it. On his foot.

...Which had resulted in broken toes.

He'd handled it like a champ, all things considered. Having dealt with broken bones before, Herobrine knows all too well the pain that they inflict, and counts Steve lucky it had been just his toes.

But he'd still felt bad and informed Steve, to which Steve seemed to respond fairly positively to. He'd assured Herobrine that he didn't blame him, and had told him that next time, maybe use the door? Though Herobrine didn't physically acknowledge the request, he's taken a mental note to knock in the future. Human customs are strange indeed.

So this time he pauses in front of the door and knocks respectfully. However, there's no immediate answer, and his patience runs thin enough that his next knocks rattle the door. Still, it remains closed.

Well if Steve's not even going to open the door then what's the point in using it?

Steadily becoming angrier, Herobrine looks through the house's windows, but he doesn't see Steve anywhere. The house is empty.

But where had Steve gone? As far as he knows Steve didn't have plans to mine or even leave his house today. So where is he?

Herobrine walks in a circle around the house, looking out into the plains and desert as he passes them. He notices some new additions to the area. The wheat farm is small but Steve only has himself to feed so that makes sense. The empty pens confuse him for a moment until he realizes they're probably for animals.

On his second circle around the house he notices the bright cyan of Steve's shirt through some trees and pauses. "Steve?" He calls out.

"Herobrine?" Steve, who had previously been laying on the ground, pops his head up and smiles. "Over here!"

Herobrine walks over to Steve, who lays back down on the ground. He puts his hands behind his head and watches the sky. Herobrine continues standing there, feeling increasingly awkward the longer Steve doesn't acknowledge his presence.

"What are you doing?" Herobrine asks finally. Steve opens his eyes and looks at him upside down.

"I'm cloud watching. Do you want to join me?" He says, and there might as well be sparkles in his eyes.

"Something so trivial does not interest me," he says snidely. Humans and their dumb rituals. Utterly pointless. "Besides, the ground is filthy."

"Aw, come on! What, are you scared of the grass?" Steve teases, rolling over onto his stomach to face Herobrine normally. Herobrine folds his arms and glares.

"I do not fear anything," he informs Steve, though that doesn't change the smile on his face.

"Then why don't you lay down?"

"I don't wish to."

"But why?"

"Because..."

"Okay but  _why_?"

"What kind of torturous human interrogation is this?" Herobrine growls. "Enough of it! Why can't you accept my reasoning?"

Steve blinks at him, still smiling widely. "Why can't you just lay down on the grass and watch some clouds with me?"

Herobrine sighs deeply and shakes his head. "There's just no getting through to you, is there? Fine. If I accept your offer will you cease your infernal arguing?"

"Sure!" Steve beams, rolling over again onto his back and getting comfortable. He then pats the ground an arms length away from him.

His face showing his clear disdain for this idea, Herobrine lowers himself to the ground and finally lays down on his back. The grass is scratchy but it does feel nice laying down, especially since the day is so warm and the cool breeze feels so peaceful.

They sit in a silence that suits them just fine. Truthfully, Herobrine would like to talk to Steve, but he doesn't know what to say, or how to even start a conversation. From their interaction alone Steve seems fairly comfortable talking to people, while Herobrine considers himself the opposite. The few times in his life he 'talked' with people did not go over all that well.

"Hey Herobrine?" Steve asks.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever thought about what it'd be like to fly?"

He glances over at Steve, who's looking up at the sky, his smile gone. "I've always thought it'd be pretty cool to fly, you know? You could go anywhere you wanted and no one could stop you. You could do anything..." Despite his uplifting words, his face is very serious. When Herobrine doesn't say anything back, Steve looks over at him and shrugs. "I've thought a lot about it." He quiets then.

Herobrine, still silent, mulls Steve's words over before speaking.

"Yes, I have," he says simply.

And then they sit there in silence, watching the clouds go by.

* * *

Some days later finds Herobrine walking through the forest behind Steve's house. They'd spent most of the day doing nothing and arguing about the benefits of upgrading tools from enchanted iron to diamond. Herobrine, as someone who has practically unlimited amounts of diamonds and ingots at his disposal, believes that its the wisest decision to not only start using diamond tools as soon as possible, but also enchant them with the highest level available. Very rarely is there an unenchanted tool lower in quality to diamond in his hand.

Steve doesn't mind using iron tools, enchanted or not, and even has a few stone ones he pulls out every once in a while. The very idea of using stone tools repulses Herobrine almost as much as the sight of them. Steve had even tried to convince him that an enchanted iron sword with sharpness I is better than an unenchanted diamond sword. He'd refused to hear that and had demanded Steve stop telling lies, because diamond tools are clearly superior in every way. Their durability alone should have been enough reason to use them above all else.

However, Steve had remained adamant, stating that he has no choice because not everyone lives forever and has the time to mine so many diamonds. Herobrine had purposefully left out that he hadn't mined for his diamonds. He'd acquired his diamonds through...other means.

And now, walking through the forest during the quiet night, Herobrine thinks today went okay. For only having been around a human for not even three weeks yet, he's starting to get comfortable around this one. He could chalk it up to them being alike in appearance, but he likes to think that Steve's behavior around him is what really helps their...friendship, though Herobrine doesn't know if he can call it that. Steve probably thinks them friends, but Herobrine is reluctant to call it that. If anything, Steve is a distraction, a flimsy whim that won't last.

Is that what he wants?

To leave the company of someone he can tolerate and return to, what, loneliness? Isolation? After having a taste of pleasant company, he doesn't know if he'll be able to walk away.

He stops in his tracks, sensing a presence he hasn't felt in several years. He glares hard into the darkness and summons a diamond sword.

"You are foolish to come here tonight, Dinnerbone," he growls, glaring as a figure emerges from beyond the treeline, hands up as if in surrender.

"Please, hear me out. I mean no harm." DB smiles hopefully but Herobrine feels only anger at the sight of his face.

"No. I will hear none of your lies!" Faster than a human would have been able to dodge, Herobrine throws his sword. Predictably, this does nothing to DB as the God teleports out of harms way, appearing to the side of the tree Herobrine's sword is now imbedded in. Angrily, Herobrine calls his sword back to him.

"That was a warning. Leave now."

"Please, I just want to talk!"

"That's what you say but I know better than to trust your word. The others might have thought themselves clever sending you but—"

"They didn't send me!" DB interrupts. "I came on my own volition."

Herobrine narrows his eyes. "Why."

"Come on Herobrine, did you think we wouldn't notice that you'd returned to the Overworld? As soon as you took your first step we knew. You'll have to face us someday and I wanted to be the one to do it. I know you wouldn't want  _him_  confronting you."

"Let him! I won't hesitate to rend him incapable of ruling your precious Aether."

"I know that, and so does he. It took a lot of convincing for him to agree to send someone else, but even then I knew you wouldn't react favorably. But I once considered us friends and I like to think that means something to you like it does me." The desperation pouring from the other is disgustingly sincere, bu the fear of rejection Herobrine relishes.

"You and your friendship mean nothing to me," he hisses coldly. "When the time mattered most none of you did anything!"

"You were killing people in cold blood!" DB retorts, his tone laced with disbelief. "How could you have thought that was okay?"

Herobrine seethes to himself, glaring hard at the other God. "Leave now. And tell the others not to cross me."

"A wise idea." Another God emerges from the treeline, coming to a stop by Dinnerbone. Herobrine grinds his teeth together in an attempt to restrain his raging anger. It's proving harder than he thought.

" _Jeb,"_  he growls savagely, tightening his grip on his sword. He slides his hateful gaze over to Dinnerbone. "You liar."

"No, I swear I had no idea—!"

"There's no need to defend yourself," Jeb says, putting a reassuring hand on DB's shoulder. "You were told this was not a great idea."

"Yeah but I thought—" He cuts himself off, looking sadly over at Herobrine. "I guess I don't know what I thought."

"I do," Herobrine says condescendingly. "You thought wrong. Both of you will leave and never return."

"We will accept that," Jeb says, silencing DB's retort with a look. "Leave him be."

"But I thought—What about—?"

"Everything will work out in the end," Jeb assures, taking DB's arm and pulling him back towards the trees. "Just don't go around killing everyone again, and we won't have any problems with each other, understand?"

"We'll see about that," Herobrine says back, still holding his sword ready even as Jeb and Dinnerbone disappear. He stays like that until he's sure they're gone, the dismisses the sword, sighing angrily. In a burst of rage he punches a nearby tree, shattering the wood around his fist and causing it to tumble to the ground. Great, now he's angry.

He hears the distant sound of lights clicking on and turns around. Through the darkness he can see the light of Steve's house on, thought the moon shows midnight. He must have heard the tree.

Unwilling—perhaps unable—to face Steve right now, Herobrine retreats to the Nether to think. And maybe fight some zombie pigmen.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell him about Steve?" Dinnerbone questions, walking side-by-side with Jeb through one of the many temples in the Aether. The sun reflects off the pale purple blocks and lights the temple beautifully.

"I think it best if he doesn't know," Jeb responds, hands behind his back as they walk up some steps to the temple's center. A large pool, the water a brilliant and clear blue, and in the middle, floating in mid air, a mirror, its surface a pasty and shimmering white.

"I think he has the right to know! It directly concerns him—the both of them, actually," DB argues. He pauses along with Jeb as the mirror turns slowly to face them.

"X 6518, Y 64, Z -948," Jeb says. The mirror pulses once and the white film dissolves, revealing the Overworld. A small wood house with two young men, no doubt arguing about something trivial. Jeb and Dinnerbone watch as Steve and Herobrine talk before entering the mine. "Follow them," he commands, and the mirror obeys. Jeb glances over at DB, who has his arms folded. He sighs.

"I know you think that would resolve some of Herobrine's anger, but I can't agree. In fact, I think it'll make things worse."

"Worse than they already are? How?"

"There is much that you don't understand," Jeb says. "Look." He gestures towards the mirror.

They watch as Herobrine grabs the back of Steve's shirt to prevent him from walking off a ledge. Steve smiles sheepishly and thanks him. He turns around but is pulled back once more, this time to avoid an arrow from a nearby skeleton. Herobrine's face is less than impressed as Steve laughs and thanks him again. Herobrine then kills the skeleton and they return to mining.

"You see?" Jeb says, "He saved Steve. He's protecting him. Do you think that will continue if he were to find out the truth?"

"I think...I think it's unfair to not give him the chance to do the right thing," DB says, resolved to his beliefs.

"We can't risk it." Jeb waves at the mirror and its surface returns to the pasty white from before. As he walks down the steps, this time alone, he pauses and says over his shoulder, "I hope you understand."

No. Dinnerbone does not.

* * *

"—And the way you jumped over the ravine to get that skeleton. I didn't know you could jump so far!"

"I can do many things."

"That was seriously one of the coolest things ever," Steve says, slinging his pick over his shoulder and walking with a bounce to his step. He's never returned from a mine with so many ores and diamonds before. The joy from a good day of hard mining leaves him feeling giddy and energized, despite his tired and sore muscles begging for rest.

"Yes. I rather...enjoyed today," Herobrine admits. Steve smiles widely at him.

"Well I'm glad. I did too."

Herobrine helps Steve sort all his new ores into furnaces and they rearrange a chest to hold all the diamonds, redstone, and lapis they'd mined. The chest is almost full by the time they're done.

"I can't even believe how much stuff we got. Fortune sure is a handy enchantment."

"Indeed. You'd be wise to acquire a pick with fortune as well."

"Maybe someday. I won't need to mine for a while though, not with all the iron we snagged." His two furnaces, usually enough to smelt everything he mines in a timely fashion, are doing a poor job of handling all the iron. There's enough that an entire stack of iron ore can fit in both furnaces, plus there's an additional stack waiting. Strip mining plus Herobrine's ridiculously good eyesight equals profit for him.

With the sun going down and the ores smelting, Herobrine says goodbye and leaves. Much like yesterday, the night is quiet.

"Herobrine?"

Stopping, Herobrine closes his eyes and sighs.

"What do you want? Have you come to ask for a death I will gladly deliver?"

"N-No," Dinnerbone says, standing boldly in front of Herobrine. "I've come to tell you the truth I think you deserve."

He raises a brow, intrigued despite himself. "Oh? And what is that?" If Dinnerbone tries to cheat him again they'll be swift retribution on his part.

"It's about Steve, and why you two look the same."

Any thoughts of disinterest leave his mind at that. "What about him?" He asks, eyes narrowing.

"Notch...he was  _devastated_  over what happen between you two. He felt  _so bad_  about what he had to do you, and you can continue to think otherwise all your life but he missed you. We all did. So he...he tried again."

Blood drips from the force of Herobrine's nails digging into his palms, his fists are clenched so tightly. His eyes are bright against the darkness as he takes careful steps towards DB.

"You know  _nothing_  about what happened. It's pitiful that he'd send someone else to attempt reconciliation, but nothing will quell my anger! It's his fault, he should have involved himself more and none of it would have happened!"

From over Herobrine's shoulder, Dinnerbone can see a light flicker on. Herobrine's shouting must have alerted Steve. Great.

"I just wanted you to know the truth, I didn't expect you to turn over a new leaf right away. But since you found Steve, I didn't want you drawing the wrong conclusions and hurting him."

"Why, is he important to you? Ha! I've heard that before," Herobrine growls, calling his sword and jumping at Dinnerbone. He teleports out of the way, appearing farther into the forest, trying to gain distance from Steve's house in case the human decided to investigate the loud yelling. Steve's always been a curious one, most times for his own good.

Teleporting isn't going to do him much good since Herobrine can do it too, but he manages to dodge the powerful swings of Herobrine's enchanted sword enough to lead them to a clearing in the trees.

"I'm sorry, okay!" He yells, rolling out of the way as Herobrine continues his assault. DB knows he's most likely talking to deaf ears right now. "I didn't want it to happen this way, I just wanted to tell you the truth then leave!"

"Then  _leave!_ " Herobrine yells and stops. "Leave and never return. Swear on it!"

"You swear to never harm Steve!" Dinnerbone says in retaliation. "You swear on that and I'll go and I won't come back."

"Do you think I blame Steve for something he can't control? Do you think me stupid? He doesn't deserve to suffer over his creator's mistakes! Now go!"

"I—Fine. I'm sorry," Dinnerbone says once more, and then disappears.

Herobrine throws his sword to the ground, drops to his knees, and slams his fists into the ground angrily. Fire erupts in a wide circle around him, scorching the grass with his fury. Tree trunks wither and die, and the ground crumbles into dust.

Slowly, in the wake of such exertion, he lowers himself until his forehead rests against the ground. He breathes evenly for several minutes, waiting out the tremors as he tries to convince himself to remain calm.

Eventually, he settles into a semi-calmed state and stands back up. He waves a hand over his sword, which returns to its resting place in the Nether. He then looks up at the moon.

Why?

Why must he continue to suffer? Why is his life filled with strife and sorrow?

He looks in the direction of Steve's house, secretly grateful that Dinnerbone had lead him away from the miner. He doesn't want to think about what he could have done in such an angered state. Nothing good, most likely.

Feeling tired, drained, and upset, Herobrine returns to the Nether. Tomorrow he'll go back to Steve's. Tomorrow will be a good day.


	15. Ocean Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think of it as if Herobrine missed a lot of 'updates' to the world—like ocean monuments and slime blocks and bunnies—when he was in the Nether.
> 
> It's hard thinking about minecraft in a life-like manner. Take a bucket of milk. Who drinks milk in terms of buckets? Nobody. But I know that in minecraft you drink milk from buckets. Just seems weird to change that, even if it makes more sense to drink from bottles.
> 
> Ugh.
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve is just finishing putting a pack together when there's a knock on the door.

He sees the tale-tell glow of Herobrine's eyes through the door's windows and smiles. He'd seemed...distant lately, to put it nicely, and Steve is glad that he's back again today. And what luck! Steve is just about to explore something he'd discovered recently and would greatly enjoy Herobrine's company.

"Hello!" He opens the door and invites Herobrine in. "Perfect timing!"

"For what, exactly?" Herobrine watches him pace about his house and gather some tools and a sword. He puts his pack on and his hands on his hips.

"I've found something and I'm going to explore it today. Would you like to join me?"

"Just what is this thing you've discovered?"

It's hard to contain his excitement but Steve's managing. He really wants to see Herobrine's expression. "You can find out for yourself when we get there."

"Alright. Nothing better to do." He shrugs and opens the door for Steve. The entire time he follows Steve, he's silent, and Steve  _really_  wants to ask what's bothering him but...Herobrine is a very intimidating and serious person, from what Steve's observed. He's also dealt with some things in his past and Steve doesn't think he'd be particularly comfortable discussing his life problems with him. So he hums a little tune on his way to their location and tries his best to put off an air of contentment. Whatever's bothering him should be pushed to the side when they get there.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve turns his head and smiles, a little skip in his step.

"It's a surprise! Although...huh." He frowns. "Now that I think about it, you've probably already conquered one of these before." He stops and spins around, startling Herobrine. "Have you beaten an ocean monument before?"

"An ocean monument?" Herobrine looks at him like he's talking nonsense. "I'm not sure I understand what that means."

Steve gapes at him. "You know, like a jungle temple or a desert temple but...in the water."

Herobrine shakes his head. "I've never seen such a thing."

"You're—You're kidding?!" Steve can't believe this. "You've never seen one before? How?" It's pretty common knowledge, isn't it? The existence of the ocean monuments? He admits they're a relatively new discovery, but of all people, Steve'd think Herobrine would have known about them. "This is blowin' my mind right now."

"Why? I don't understand."

"It's just...you're  _you_!"

Herobrine looks half amused half affronted. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"N-Not anything bad! Just...you know..." He waves his hands in an indistinguishable gesture that he's not even sure the meaning of, and Herobrine clearly doesn't catch his drift.

"You're strong right?"

"Yes."

"And smart and clever and all that stuff too I'm sure. A temple must be the easiest thing in the world to beat for you, right?"

"...I think I now see what your earlier statement meant."

Steve sighs in relief and smiles again. "Good. That's what I thought, but I hadn't even considered that you'd never been to an ocean monument before." He gasps and grabs Herobrine's shoulders. "Oh my Gods I just realized you've never been to an ocean monument!"

Herobrine looks like he wants to pull away, but for Steve he refrains. He wanted this, right? He wanted someone he might be able to call friend, and friends are comfortable around each other. It's just...It's been awhile. "I thought we just established that."

"This means—Do you know what this means!?"

"No, and you're starting to confuse me greatly."

Steve takes a deep breath and lets go of him, taking a step back to regain some composure, though there's still a wide smile on his face.

"Sorry, I know this must be a lot for you. Why don't we just continue on our way and I'll explain on the way."

"I would much appreciate that." They start walking again. "I find myself rather curios about this ocean monument. You say it's like a temple?"

"Yeah! Only under water, which is kind of a bummer because of our whole 'breathing' thing we've got going on. A potion of under water breathing sure would have come in handy." He mumbles the last part but Herobrine hears him anyway. As they crest a hill, Steve stops again and points out towards the wide open ocean now before them.

"You see it there? The lanterns give it away."

Indeed, a pyramid like structure is nestled oddly not too far from the coastline, strange lights at the top giving away its position with a dull glow. With his enhanced vision he can see dark figures circling it in the water.

"What are those creatures?"

Steve gives him a surprised look. "You can see them this far away?" He squints and shields his eyes from the sun but no luck at spotting any. "They're called guardians. As their name implies they protect the monument from anything that comes close to it, and I mean _anything_ ; they feel threatened by squid, so they're not incredibly smart but they are relentless."

"Hm." Herobrine had not been expecting this when he knocked on Steve's door, but he's glad he accepted Steve's invitation to join him today. He'd had no idea about the existence of such a structure, nor that it was protected by a mob he knows nothing about. He's intrigued by this turn of events and wonders if this type of temple will actually be a challenge.

He takes a step forward but Steve grabs his arm. "Wait! Be careful. You can only get so close without being inflicted with the monument's curse. When I found it I tested how close I could get. The curse is not pleasant either, it's mining fatigue. That block of cobble marks how close we can get. Luckily mining fatigue doesn't affect how fast blocks can be placed, so I was able to build a bridge out to the top of the monument."

The cobblestone is placed a few blocks away from where the water meets the sand, and the bridge is made of cobblestone as it stretches across the water to the lights on top of the monument. Herobrine looks at it with displeasure.

"We can get no closer? Seems inconvenient."

"Well, you can get closer, but you'll be afflicted with mining fatigue." He sets down his pack near the cobblestone.

"Have you experienced this before?"

Steve shakes his head. "Yeah, and I'm not looking forward to it again. It's near impossible to break blocks under its influence."

Herobrine, not feeling convinced that this supposed 'curse' is as bed as Steve claims, walks forward. Steve reaches out but holds his tongue, retracting his arm with a skeptical look crossing his features. Well, if he wants to...

Standing with the water lapping at his boots, Herobrine watches as the guardians attack squids with light beams. The extent of the damage they inflict is still unknown to him, though he doubts they could be any real threat. They also don't stray too far from the monument.

"How long does it take?" He calls back to Steve, who's watching him from the safe area behind the cobble. He shrugs.

"I'm not sure. It happened pretty quickly once I got close enough. It...well." It's on the tip of his tongue, to tell Herobrine what exactly happens when the mining fatigue takes effect but...he's curios to see how well Herobrine handles it. So far, every time it's happened to him he jumps.

"What?"

He blinks and shakes his head. "You'll uh, you'll see."

Herobrine gives him a suspicious look and turns back to the monument. Steve, while setting up a chest and crafting table, keeps an eye on Herobrine's back. When the guy startles badly and yells out in shock, Steve puts a hand to his mouth to keep his giggles in. Probably not a good idea to laugh at him.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" Herobrine asks, rounding on him with accusation in his eyes. Steve whistles and looks anywhere but Herobrine.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He exaggerates his shrug. Both he and Herobrine know he  _definitely_  knew that was going to happen.

"What was that?" Herobrine asks, retreating back to the cobblestone. Steve hands him an empty bucket.

"Here hold this. Apparently there's something called an elder guardian that resides inside the monument, and approaching it gives you mining fatigue." He finishes emptying his pack into the chest and takes the bucket back from Herobrine.

"And you felt like you couldn't tell me this before because...?"

Steve smiles. "Because it was funny.  _And—_ " He stops Herobrine before the guy can say anything, as he clearly wants to. "Because I thought it would be better for you to experience it yourself. Now you know what to expect, right?"

It makes sense but Herobrine still feels salty about it. "That was dirty, even if you're right."

"Well I'm sorry I hurt your feelings then. Come on, we need to find a cow."

From Steve's house they'd traveled through the plains biome to reach the ocean. The plains has an abundance of animals grazing its grassy surface, and he and Steve walk up to a cow. Steve pulls out a handful of wheat from his pack and waves it in front of the cow until the lumbering animal catches scent of it and starts following him.

"I assume we need this cow for milk?"

"You'd assume correct. With the mining fatigue taking effect every so often, we'll need as many bottles of milk we can handle. Can you...?" Steve practically shoves the wheat into Herobrine's hands before building a quick and small pen for their new friend. Herobrine hands the wheat back eagerly to get the cow away from him, and Steve leads it into the pen before closing it off and finally allowing the cow to have its prize. "There you go." He pets its head gently before jumping the fence and brushing his hands together.

"Hmm." He taps a finger against his chin as he thinks. "How many buckets should we have stored up?"

"At least one, so I can return to normal."

"Oh yeah!" Steve picks up the bucket and milks the cow, grabbing an empty bottle to scoop up some of the white liquid before passing it off to Herobrine. The thought of drinking milk straight from the cow disgusts him but he'd eat nether wart raw if it meant clearly a nasty effect like mining fatigue.

Steve fills a few more bottles for future use before setting the bucket and the rest of the empty bottles next to the cow pen. He's sure they'll be coming back to it in a little bit.

"Wouldn't more potions be of benefit?" Herobrine takes a few offered bottles and sends all but one to the nether for storage until he needs it.

"Yeah, but with the milk it'd just clear all the potion effects. We could buff up with regen and stuff but we'd have to deal with the mining fatigue too."

"Agh, right."

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

They walk up to the cobblestone. "I think as soon as we're hit with the fatigue we should drink the potions, then we have as long as it takes until we're hit with it again to at least get in the monument and see what it's like in there."

"That sounds smart. But, I want to try something first. Stay here."

Steve obliges while Herobrine walks out toward the monument on the cobblestone. He's anxious about it, hell he's anxious about doing it himself. He'd been lucky that none of the guardians had seen him when he'd been building it, because he'd read that, without armor, they're attack is not pleasant. Armor minimizes the damage exponentially, but it's also incredibly hard to swim in armor. Unless you want to drown, swimming with armor is a death wish.

Herobrine doesn't seem worried about the guardians as he stares down into the water, and Steve finds it weird that they aren't attacking him. He wonders what Herobrine's even doing. The longer he has to stand there waiting for Herobrine to finish...whatever he's doing, the heavier his pack feels on his back and the more his anxiety rises. He's excited about exploring the monument and he really can't wait, but the guardians and the building itself are all new to him. Though, he supposes that's part of the appeal of finding something new to explore.

Herobrine gestures for him and he cautiously crosses the cobble bridge. He stops next to Herobrine. "Why aren't they attacking?"

"I'm not sure. It might be all the squids distracting them. Being out of the water may also be playing a part in it, but that means as soon as we jump in they'll turn on us."

"At least we have a break for now. I guess we should wait for the mining fatigue?"

"I guess so."

They walk to the end of the bridge, waiting for the elder guardian to curse them. "What were you doing?" Steve watches a guardian pass underneath the bridge.

"I have...an ability, you could call it, that affects mobs. I was testing it on the guardians but they are fairly resilient to it." Herobrine crosses his arms, his face in a scowl. "Took them long enough to figure that out," he mumbles.

"That's pretty cool. Does it work with all the mobs? Or just the hostile ones?"

"Hm. You see that chicken over there?" Herobrine nods to the shoreline, where Steve can indeed see a chicken picking at the dirt. "Watch it."

The chicken stops and stares in their direction before jumping and scrambling away as if spooked.

"Wow. You sure can do a lot of cool things." Steve smiles at Herobrine's raised brow.

"You think it's cool?"

His smile falters. "Well, yeah! I can't do anything like that. Don't you think what you can do is amazing?"

"I've never put much thought into it." Herobrine goes quiet at that and Steve sighs. One day they'll be able to talk like friends. Unfortunately, today is not that day.

A ghostly image of an elder guardian flashes in front of his eyes and startles him badly. Herobrine must have been expecting it this time because he doesn't jump and immediately downs the milk. Steve follows suit and they stand at the edge of the bridge looking down into the ocean. The lanterns are a few blocks below them.

Herobrine jumps in first. A diamond sword appears in his hands and he opens up a way in for Steve, at which point the miner jumps in as well. The water is cold and shocks him, but in the good way. He's alert, and a little on edge, and shimmies through the hole after Herobrine.

The lanterns must have been crafted to work well under water because the inside of the monument is fairly well lit, even to Steve's human eyes. He can make out thin dark pillars of a material he's never seen before and touches it. Whatever it is feels like stone and is a dark green.

He feels a tug on his shirt and turns. Herobrine motions for him to follow and they swim towards a room with water only filling half of it. The ceiling is decorated with sponges.

Taking a deep breath, Steve stands on his tip toes to feel the damp sponges. "Whoa. I've never seen sponges work this well before. This place is pretty cool so far, don't you think? These blocks are so pretty." He rests a hand on the light green walls. "I wonder what it's made out of?"

"I have no idea. I've never seen blocks like these either." Herobrine looks around their air pocket. "I'm impressed though. So far this is already more difficult than a desert or jungle temple. I wonder what the treasure will be."

"I've read books about it. Somewhere near the middle one of the elder guardians protects some gold."

"Gold huh?" Herobrine scrunches his nose in distaste. "Couldn't be something more useful like diamond or iron."

"Gold can be useful, just...not as much."

"Not  _nearly_  as much. How much is there?"

"A few blocks I think."

"Blocks? That's better but it's still a high-risk low-reward situation. Gold blocks are only good for beacon bases."

Steve looks at Herobrine quizzically. "What's a beacon?"

"Are you—" Herobrine stares at him. "Are you serious?"

"I swear I've never heard of it before. What is it?"

"It's a beacon, it...shoots a brilliant beam into the sky and bestows potion abilities on those near it. But in order for it to function you need at least nine blocks of either iron, gold, diamond, or emerald. If you want the full effects though you'll need four layers of blocks. Well over one hundred blocks are used between all four layers."

"Wow. That's probably why I've never seen one; people need their ingots and gems."

"...Yes that's most likely the reason." He'll tell Steve about the Wither later. He doubts the miner's been to the Nether anyway. Plus, they have something more pressing matters on their hands. "Remember where this room is in case you need air, okay? And keep an eye out for more rooms like it."

"Aye aye, captain," Steve says, saluting with a smile on his face. Herobrine rolls his eyes—at least, Steve gets the impression he does. It's kind of hard to tell considering his eyes are blank—and takes a deep breath before diving beneath the water. Steve follows after a few deep breaths himself.

They continue like that for a while, finding more strange rooms along the way with pockets of air for them to catch their breath in. Herobrine comments on how empty and silent the monument is while Steve counts it as a blessing.

There doesn't appear to be any traps, which is just as well because when they enter a larger room they understand why they haven't seen any guardians. Herobrine quickly pulls Steve by his shirt out of the room and they swim toward a nearby sponge room.

"Did you see the size of that thing?!" Steve runs a hand through his soaking hair and pushes it out of his eyes. "It was huge!"

"I had not been anticipating this. I must say I am quite surprised." He frowns and absentmindedly plays with a loose string at the seam of his shirt. "I think we should exercise more caution than ever in there. In fact..." Herobrine summons a diamond sword and looks at Steve. "Don't move. I'll kill the elder and then come get you."

"Aw, you get all the fun."

Herobrine raises a brow and holds the sword out. "Care to volunteer?"

The ghost image of the elder flashes before them right then and Steve can feel his arms getting heavy. The thought of holding a sword makes his muscles ache. "Er, no thanks. I think you can handle it without my help." He digs out a milk bottle and sips it as he waits for Herobrine to return.

It doesn't take long—shocker—before he's hurrying to his feet when Herobrine reenters the sponge room.

"What happened?" He hovers his hands over the various wounds now staining Herobrine's shirt, and the water, red. "Did you get it?"

"I did, and I offer this advice: don't hit them, not without armor. They have thorns."

"Oh no. Are you okay?"

Herobrine's expression is blank and Steve can't tell what he's thinking, which doesn't surprise him in the least. "I'm fine," he eventually says, turning away. "It should be safe now."

There are still guardians in the room, but they cower in the corners. Steve wonders if their behavior is a mix between Herobrine and the death of the elder. Maybe the elder had previously been protecting them?

Herobrine mines some of the dark green blocks and solid gold starts to reflect the lanterns' light, creating a heavenly glow around the cluster of shining blocks as they are revealed.

They waste no time collecting the gold blocks and quickly swim back to the entrance Herobrine had made. As Steve pulls himself onto the cobblestone bridge, he takes several deep breaths and lays on his back with his legs still in the water.

A shadow falls over him and he opens his eyes, not sure when he closed them. Herobrine has a hand offered to pull him up and he smiles when taking it. "Tired?"

"Just out of breath." Steve stretches and swings his pack off his back, dangling it above the water as it drains. "Man that thing was getting heavy." When it mostly stops dripping he straps it back on. "So what now?"

"I do not know. You invited me here, remember? And we got what we came for."

"Yeah...the sun's gonna go down in an hour or two anyway. Might as well head back home, I'm—" He's interrupted by his stomach growling. "—Hungry."

"Then let us not keep your stomach waiting."

After spending the entire trek back talking while Herobrine mostly nodded or hummed, Steve pauses at his door.

"Are you leaving now?"

"That was my intention, yes. Why do you ask?"

"I just though...I don't know, I mean, are you hungry...or something?"

"Am I...hungry?" Herobrine says it slowly as if trying to comprehend the words.

"I have some steaks I was gonna cook up before they go bad and just, figured I'd ask, is all." He shrugs.

"You're asking me to stay for dinner." It's a statement. Its just about the most Herobrine can manage at the moment.

"I mean you can stay longer if you want. It's just dinner but I'm...it's kinda embarrassing actually but the longer we hang out the lonelier I get when you're gone. I'd gotten used to it because I've had some bad experiences with villages and tend to stay away from them but now, it's different, ya know?"

No, Herobrine does not know, and finds the human's train of thought here confusing but there are some words that are resonating with the way he feels and it makes him pause when normally, had it been anyone else, he'd of left and not looked back.

"—ven go at night? I mean do you live around here? 'Cause you always seem to get here pretty early when you  _do_  show up so I guess I'm just assuming things at this point..."

He's rambling now, his internal filter laying crumpled to the side as he says anything that crosses his mind. Herobrine holds up a hand and he stumbles over his words until he shuts his mouth, his cheeks a little red in a mix of embarrassment and nerves. He expects the worst when Herobrine opens his mouth.

"Steak, you said?"

He blinks and lets a small smile creep onto his face. All the nerves rush out of him as he takes a deep breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, steak and potatoes and bread, if that sounds good."

"It sounds wonderful. I'd be...honored to be a guest for dinner."

"Well I'd be honored to have you. Maybe tomorrow you can help me get some farm animals. I've been meaning to do it but I've been lazy about it."

"Farm animals huh? Don't count on it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've come full circle. The next chapter will be the last.


	16. On My Way Home To You Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so...this is only the first part of the last chapter, because it's already over 9000 words and there's still more I have to address so I thought, "Fuck it." and am posting it in parts. I don't think the next part will be as long but long enough to warrant its own chapter.
> 
> Also, writing is hard.
> 
> Enjoy! Also, seriously guys, two songs inspired me here: The Nights and Waiting for Love by Avicii. Guys. Guys go check out these songs, right now, stop reading this and go listen to those songs, okay thank you.
> 
> ***This chapter continues from chapter 11***

_"What about you?" Herobrine accuses. "You talk of not being alone and yet my departure, which you push so strongly for, will leave you without a companion. What flawed logic is this?"_

_Steve smiles and claps his shoulder. "Listen, I can handle being alone. It's you who has to worry about functioning without another human being around. If my near death experience is anything to go by, you need some help, and traveling the world will do the trick, I_ __know_ _ _it will. I'll be alright, you don't have to worry about me." Steve shakes him a little before pushing him gently toward the forest. "You should go."_

_"I don't know how to thank you," Herobrine says, letting himself be pushed. Steve shakes his head._

_"You saved my life. That's all the thanks I need. But if you still want to, do it when you get back. I'll be looking forward to it."_

* * *

On a day like this, Steve knows he should be happy. He should be enjoying life. And he is to a certain extent, but...nothing's the same, not like what he'd thought.

Ever since Herobrine left, things haven't been quite the same. He can't look at a pick without thinking of all the times he and Herobrine went buddy caving, nor can he really have fun alone. After having been around someone for so long only to have them gone, he's not adjusting very well at all to being on his own again.

He  _should_  be happy, but he's not.

Now don't get him wrong, he's happy that Herobrine is finally starting to relearn his place in the world, and it had been Steve's idea in the first place, but it's only now that Herobrine's gone does Steve realize how lonely he had once been and now is again.

He sighs from where he's laying on the grass outside his house. He tilts his head to the right and spots one of his dogs.

Boy had he been lucky to find them.

He'd been in a taiga, taking a break from exploring the large biome. The smell of the chicken he'd been eating had attracted two dogs, and they must have had prior contact with humans because they'd come right up to him and sat begging for food with puppy-dog eyes. Steve, a sucker for all animals, had known there'd be no possible way to turn them down so he'd gladly shared his food. A mistake that turned into a blessing.

The dogs had ended up following him. Nothing he did could deter them, and he'd given up and hoped they'd go on their own. But when he'd dug out a cave to spend the night in, the dogs had sat at the blocked entrance and whined their little hearts out until he'd caved and let them in. From then on he'd decided the dogs probably wouldn't leave and so had fashioned collars from leather and carved the name Socks into one and Ty into another. Socks had completely white feet for being a dark gray dog, making it look like he was wearing socks. Ty had light gray fur but brown markings on his chest that made him look like he had a bow tie. Since then the dogs have been his constant companions.

They fill the gap a little and make his day that much brighter. Whether he's collecting food from his farms or feeding the animals, Socks and Ty are always playing somewhere nearby, giving him that sense of companionship he'd been missing. It's not the same, not by a long shot, and that's to be expected, but it they help. And at this point he'll take all the help he can get.

* * *

"Are you sure about this? I thought you'd said you wouldn't ever intervene, you know, after...?"

"I think I can make an exception for him."

"But what are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure. I'm kind of nervous about it, actually."

"You? Nervous?"

A laugh. "Yeah if you can believe it. I only hope he listens."

"Come on, you do know who you're talking about here, right? I mean, it's  _Steve_. The guy would make friends with a tree if it could talk."

"Well you're not wrong, but you know how hard his life was, in the beginning." A sigh and a frown. "Oh how I wish things had turned out different."

"But then he probably wouldn't have met Herobrine."

They look at each other before the elder turns and hints a smile. "That is definitely the one good thing that came out of this. Alright, are you going to watch?"

"Uh, is the sky blue? I wouldn't miss this for the world! Just don't make a fool out of yourself."

"Thanks for the confidence boost."

* * *

Steve sighs again for probably the hundredth time as he turns the page of a book. It's about...he turns it over to read the cover.  _The Prevalence of Hostile Mobs_ _A_ _cross the Biomes._  He'd found it in the pile of books Herobrine had once brought him from a stronghold and had been mildly interested in it. But now he finds himself reading the same sentence twenty times over.

He sticks with it a little longer before tossing the book on the table beside him and slumping in his chair. He stares at the wavering trees with lidded eyes, and stifles a yawn. He's not one for naps but with nothing to do he's more tired than ever.

Socks walks over and lays down at his feet, and Ty licks his hand for attention. He absentmindedly pats his head and closes his eyes. Maybe just a quick nap...

A loud knocking makes him just and gasp, his dogs rushing to the door and barking. He rubs his eyes and gets up, shushing his dogs and opening the door wearily.

A kind looking bald man in simple clothes is at his door. His clothes are simple and his dark beady eyes warm.

"Uh-um, y-yes?" Steve questions wearily. It's not every day he gets someone knocking on his door. In fact, it's not  _ever_  that it happens.

"I hope my timing is alright. I was walking by when I spotted your house and am in desperate need of directions. Would you happen to know the way to Ironpines? I fear I'm hopelessly lost." He grins and rubs his head.

"Oh, I-I think...I haven't been there in a long time but I think you just head south," he points in front of them, "and keep the jungle to your right. It may not be the most direct route but it'll get you there."

The man turns around and holds a hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. He nods and turns back. "Thanks. Say, are you alright? You look a little down."

Steve internally deliberates whether or not he should even bother talking to the guy, but hey, he hasn't said anything and  _had_  been the one to approach him so...

Plus his ever growing and strangely new desire for social interaction needs to be fulfilled somehow. Talking to his dogs just doesn't make the cut.

"Er—uh," he sighs and shifts. "I don't know anymore. A good friend of mine recently left to explore and things around here haven't been the same. I mean I have my dogs who I love but they can't talk back, you know? Sometimes it's enough but...there's a hole that he left." Realizing that he just poured quite a bit of his heart out to a complete stranger, he blushes lightly in embarrassment and waves a hand to dismiss all that. "But, I'm getting by. There's nothing to worry about."

"Nonsense." Somewhat strangely the guy looks deeply affected by his story, if the sadness in his expression is anything to go by. It's like he actually cares about Steve's life. "You're hurting."

Steve shrugs and picks at a loose string on the hem of his shirt. "I guess. It's really not that bad."

"Now you're lying to yourself."

Drawing his brows together Steve looks up. The man has his arms crossed and a knowing look on his face. "How do you know that?"

"You could say I have a gift for reading people. And you're an open book my friend."

"Huh. That bad?"

"Yes. I hope you don't take this the wrong way but I'd like to offer you some advice."

Steve gestures for him to continue.

"Go after him."

The abruptness of it makes Steve blink and frown. "I'm...sorry?"

"Take action and go after him. You say he's out exploring, so what's stopping you from doing the same? Granted I don't know any of the circumstances but it all seems fairly clear cut to me."

"No, I couldn't that's—if he came back and I was gone I'd feel horrible. What if he thought I'd abandoned him? No, I  _have_  to wait for his return." He's resolute in this. Whenever Herobrine chooses to come back, Steve will be here.

"So you don't know when he's coming back? You're prepared to spend possibly years alone in the middle of nowhere waiting for him?"

"W-Well, I...uhh..." The guy has a point, unfortunately. Several times now Steve had tried tricking himself into believing that already a lot of time had passed and Herobrine would return soon. But deep down he knows that it'll probably take more than a handful of months for Herobrine to accept both his place in the world and humanity. It might even take more than a handful of  _years_. Herobrine's already been alive so long, a year must be so incredibly short for him. Is there a chance he'd take into account relativity and come back before too many years passed for Steve? And is that even the kind of life he wants to live?

No, it's not.

But the 'what-ifs.' What if Herobrine did come back before too long, say within the next two years. If Steve decides to leave and explore the world he's not going to half-ass it—he'll be in it for the long haul. What if Herobrine sees an empty house and starts assuming the worst? Things like Steve stopped caring and moved on or was driven away or worse, died?

If he leaves he knows he'll be stressing about Herobrine. But if he stays he'll also stressing about Herobrine. And he definitely doesn't like the idea of being alone for much longer.

"Well it's none of my business. Who am I to tell you how to live your life? I hope you sort everything out, friend. Thanks for the directions." Steve watches the man walk away and closes the door, patting the heads of his dogs as he walks past them to a chair. He sits down heavily, absentmindedly petting his dogs, who had followed him for more attention.

What is he supposed to do with his life?

* * *

"I don't think it worked."

Notch and Dinnerbone stand in a temple in the Aether, staring into the mirror focused on Steve's house. Ever since leaving Steve's a few days ago, Notch has practically been glued to this spot, waiting for Steve to do something. Will he finally fulfill his purpose or will the thought of Herobrine returning trap him into staying? He admits he hadn't been the most persuasive, and had seriously considered revealing his true identity, always eager for the opportunity to talk to Steve one on one without lying to his face. But hopefully he's said everything Steve needed to hear, and at the very least he'll be happy if he planted the smallest seed of doubt in Steve's mind. Hopefully Steve can see that Herobrine won't be coming back anytime soon and will explore the world himself, like Notch had intended for him to do.

He sighs and rubs his brow. "I think you may be right." He counter's DB's downer statement with a smile. "Do you have the coordinates?"

"Yeah...show me -7023 75 10023," DB tells the mirror, which shimmers brightly as the screen's obscured for a few seconds before revealing a new scene...

* * *

"Go! Now!"

The young woman grabs her child closely to her and hurries out of the burning building.

Exhaling through his nose, Herobrine adjusts his hold on the failing roof, ensuring the woman and her child's safety, before teleporting outside to safety. The woman had been too busy fussing over her son to notice.

Approaching them, Herobrine adjusts his cloak and brushes off some ash and dust. "Are you two alright?"

The woman gasps as she remembers him, spinning around and throwing herself at him, enveloping him in a grateful hug. "Oh thank you! Thank you so much! You saved us!"

He accepts the hug without comment and lets her cling for as long as she needs. Eventually she pulls away and returns to her son's side. Both of them seem unharmed.

After making sure her son's okay she turns to him. "I don't know how to ever repay you. If you hadn't been here...oh by the Gods thank you!" Tears start falling down her cheeks and he sighs internally. Humans. So emotional.

"Just knowing you're safe is enough for me." At least his courtesy has gotten better. "The nearest village isn't far, but I'd feel better if I escorted you there myself." He looks at the charred ruins and feels the loss of their house resonate with him. He knows what that's like. "I have emeralds to pay for an inn."

"T-That's quite alright. I have a friend who will let us stay with her. But...if you don't mind escorting us, would you please?"

"Of course. Are you fit to travel?" Do humans have rules for this kind of thing? What are they supposed to do now that not only their house but all their stuff has burned away? Human customs sure are strange.

She picks up her son and balances him on her hip. "Yes, I think so."

With a nod he starts walking, the woman falling into step behind him.

After a few minutes of silence the woman clears her throat. "I'm Kathleen. If it isn't too much trouble...I'd like to know the name of our savior?"

Herobrine stops walking, causing Kathleen to almost run into him. This is definitely one of the hard parts. People have vastly different reactions when they learn the identity of their savior. But surprisingly so far, acceptance and gratitude have been the majority reactions.

When traveling somewhere new, Herobrine likes to hide his true nature by making his eyes appear human. The first and only color that had seemed like the right choice had been the strange yet captivating violet of Steve's eyes. Since he and Steve look so similar, Herobrine just couldn't picture any other color. And having non pure white eyes opens up a whole new world of social possibilities. He can actually walk around a town in broad daylight without having to worry about someone freaking out. But when people ask him his name, he doesn't feel right lying to them.

He turns to look at her. "You won't freak out, right?"

She gives him a strange look and smiles, hiking her son higher on her hip. "I can't imagine why I would." Yeah, people  _say_  that, but then that's exactly what they do. Here goes nothing.

He blinks a few times and lets the color fade from his eyes. "It's Herobrine."

Her smile instantly turns down, and she takes a step back. "You're...but you just..."

"I understand if you're afraid. If you wish me to leave I will." While humans pose no threat to him no matter how angry they are, he finds that simply leaving is better than any confrontation.

"I'm not afraid." She looks faintly offended. "I'm just...shocked! I know of the legends so I assumed..."

"Yeah." He starts walking again, changing his eyes back. "I know."

They walk the rest of the way in silence, until Kathleen's standing in the doorway of her friend's house. "Thank you again. Truly. And I'm sorry."

"You're welcomed. And thank you."

He walks away, on the road again to nowhere.

He misses Steve.

* * *

"At least one of them is doing what they're meant for, right?" DB will be first to say that he'd always known Herobrine had good in him. He's just happy to see it finally surfacing.

"But  _both_  of them could be doing that. That's why I made them. It pains me to see Steve holding himself back. I wish he'd realized that Herobrine isn't the only one who needs to find his place. Steve shouldn't be afraid of other people."

"That isn't his fault though. That's Herobrine's doing. If anything, Herobrine appealing to humanity will increase Steve's likability. If people got to know him they'd understand he's nothing to fear."

"But would Steve let someone besides Herobrine get that close?"

Neither DB nor Notch knows the answer, and DB leaves Notch to watch over his creations in peace. After a few more minutes of nothing happening on Steve's end, Notch decides to retire for the day and vows to return tomorrow.

Which proves to be a lot more fruitful...

* * *

"Socks! Drop it!"

Instead of obeying, Socks hold on to his shirt in his mouth, his tail wagging vigorously as he dodges Steve's grabs. Desperately trying to get his shirt back, Steve happens to look over at his stuff and skids to a stop.

"Ty! Get out of there silly." He picks Ty up out of one of his chests and sets him on the ground gently. Ty sits and smiles the way dogs do while Socks trots up to him and drops the shirt to lick his face. Seeing an opportunity, Steve lunges for his shirt. Socks, the dirty rascal, reacts quickly and dances away, shirt in mouth.

"Socks...argh." Shaking his head, Steve gives up and declares his shirt a lost cause. Whatever, he has plenty.

He starts arranging his chests again when he hears the sound of cloth ripping. Turning his head, he spots his shirt torn between the mouth of both dogs as they tug o' war for it. He smiles at their antics and continues going through the chests, separating the contents into one of two piles quickly accruing on opposite sides of his house, one for useful items to later be sorted through more thoroughly, and one for garbage. He'd been meaning to go through his stuff and clear out some inventory, but he'd been too much of a lazy sad sack to kick his butt into gear. But now he feels invigorated and yet still anxious about the fast upcoming future. As soon as he sorts everything out...he's going on an adventure.

It'd taken a lot of debating with himself—and on a few occasions aloud to Socks and Ty—about whether or not he should leave his house and travel the world. He'd used to biome hop, back when he'd been looking for the perfect place to settle down. He looks back fondly on those times, not because he'd been homeless or scared out of his mind, but because he'd been free. And right now, he doesn't feel free at all. It's like he's trapped in his own home, waiting for something that might not happen. And that's not what he wants to feel like.

The problem he's experiencing whenever he thinks of his situation is that he  _really_  wants to travel... _with_  Herobrine. Oh that'd be so fun! Every time he'd ever gone mining with Herobrine he'd had the time of his life. And now he wants that all the time...

But if that's what he really wants, he has to go after it himself. He can't rely on Herobrine to return in a timely manner, and enough time has passed that Steve's no longer injured from his wither skeleton encounter, and the overprotectiveness that Herobrine'd been displaying has long since left his mind. After so much attention being alone is the worst thing in the world. There's a little journal in the non garbage pile that he wants to complete. In it is a list of all the biomes, and by each one a box. Hopefully he'll be able to put a check in each one.

A yip from one of the dogs draws his attention. Socks looks guilty as Ty licks at his paw. Socks is the more aggressive one, and must have accidentally hurt Ty. "Ty! Socks!"

They perk up and charge towards him, nearly knocking him on his back in their haste. Smiling, he rubs their heads and laughs when they try licking his face.

"Down boys! Relax..."

Now more than ever he feels so grateful having them with him. Although only having been in his care for a few weeks, he and his dogs have bonded closely, and he knows they'll protect him from the mobs. If only dogs got along with cats...it'd sure be nice having mobile creeper repellent.

By the time he finishes clearing out the first chest the sun has just started leaving its overhead position. He swipes an arm across his forehead and downs the rest of the water bottle next to him, throwing the empty bottle into the pile of garbage.

He rests for a few seconds, stretching his arms above his head. The daunting task of clearing his stuff and sorting it all into more manageable piles isn't enough to damper the increasing feeling of excitement that courses through his body from thoughts of his upcoming adventure. Though still a little doubtful that others will be able to tolerate his appearance, the stranger from a few days ago has eased his mind a bit. The man hadn't reacted any different than if Steve didn't look like Herobrine. Is it possible that people are starting to forget Herobrine? If so, it's a relief and yet sad. Steve doesn't want people to forget Herobrine, he wants Herobrine to prove to them that he's nothing to fear. His name shouldn't be whispered by terrified villagers, it should be called with joy and respect.

The sounds of Socks and Ty ripping his shirt into smaller pieces pulls him out of his respite and he looks forlornly at the two piles of stuff. Figuring that throwing away things would be easier than going through them again, Steve grabs a bucket and goes in search of lava.

After almost losing his life thanks to faulty stone platforms, Steve constructs a simple cobblestone hole in the ground which he dumps the lava into. Then he carts his things outside before throwing them to the lava to burn.

The work is mindless and he watches Socks and Ty play outside. They run in front of the animal pens and Steve's eyes linger on them. He'll have to release them soon, perhaps today. He has enough food stored up to last him several weeks, and it'd be inhumane to leave them to starve or to unnecessarily kill them.

When the last of the garbage—a wooden pickaxe and some string—is tossed into the lava, Steve claps his hands free of dust and walks up to the cow pen. They notice his approach and moo, walking close to the fence and sniffing at his clothes for wheat once he's withing range. He pats a few and opens the pen, internally thanking them for their contribution to his continued survival.

The cows slowly disperse from the area, and he does the same thing with the sheep and chickens. As he watches them all go their separate ways, he remembers back to when he'd managed to convince Herobrine to help him. Back then he'd been against all things animal related and had only reluctantly helped. Now, Steve gets the feeling Herobrine'd be a lot more receptive to the idea if it meant helping Steve out. He likes the thought. He'd always felt that Herobrine had started being friendlier after that.

He wonders if Herobrine's doing okay. Has he encountered people yet? Has he told any of them his identity or is he keeping it a secret? And how does he deal with his eyes, the most noticeable aspect about him?

He wishes he could talk to Herobrine to find out for himself.

* * *

Notch is beside himself with giddiness as he watches Steve burn things outside his house. He'd gotten tired of watching from the Aether and had arrived in the Overworld in high spirits. Finally,  _finally_ , Steve is going to fulfill his purpose.

The one thing Notch wishes were different is Steve obliviousness of his identity. Although he'd appeared before Steve, he'd feigned humanity and neglected to mention a name. When Herobrine had been created and Notch had worked up the nerve to talk to him, he hadn't hidden anything then, so why now? Does Steve not deserve the same? Steve, who probably needs divine help more than any other. The guilt of taking so long and the familiarity of this situation with Herobrine's does make him nervous, however. He knows for a fact that Steve is exponentially more human than Herobrine, who would no doubt argue that he'd taken his humanity and crushed it into the dirt centuries ago. And while they are alike enough is spirit and definitely in likeness, Notch knows that Steve wouldn't react as poorly as Herobrine had when Notch had revealed himself then.

But things are different now. Notch had made sure not to make the same mistake twice, and had let the introduction of humans to his world settle well before attempting to bring about someone like Herobrine again. Back then Herobrine had been in the Nether, giving Notch the impression that he never again wanted anything to do with the Overworld. Which, at that time, had been perfectly fine with him, because that'd given him the opportunity to create Steve.

Steve is what Herobrine had been created to become. Kind, selfless, brave and daring. Someone of the land who sought its peace and the safety of those living in it...okay, not exactly what Steve's like, but someone he'll get there. However, the irony of Herobrine being the more capable of the two for this task is not lost on him, and he's immensely glad that Steve had affected Herobrine enough to change his opinion of humans. He shudders to think of what could have happened to Steve the day he and Herobrine had met.

That being said...Steve doesn't know any of this, and Notch doesn't like that. Is it wrong withholding the truth from Steve, especially when Steve isn't as human as he thinks he is? He'd never even thought of lying to Herobrine, so why does he leave Steve in the dark?

This is what Notch is most unsure about. Steve can't die of old age, the most important aspect that sets him apart from other humans. And if he does manage to get himself killed, he'll just be reborn. It's happened many times before and it'll continue to happen, so long as Steve lives a mortal's life and endangers himself. Much like Herobrine, theoretically Steve could live forever, if he's careful. Herobrine, if slain, will appear at the world's origin, 0,0, which is where Notch spawned him. He retains his memories and powers, and continues on as if nothing had happened, as if dying is just a minor set back. Steve's case is a little different, since he'd wanted Steve to know and understand humans more thoroughly than Herobrine would ever be able to, simply by nature. And since Herobrine had never experienced nor wanted to experience parents, Notch doesn't feel as bad about Herobrine's situation, at least not as bad as he used to.

And unfortunately Steve's dilemma with fearing others is not new to him. In his anger Herobrine had tainted the land and its people with fear, and poor Steve is forced to deal with the consequence, all because Notch had been saddened about Herobrine's failure and thought making Steve look just like Herobrine would heal the world. But there's been too many factors he hadn't accounted for and Steve had never been given the chance to rise to the savior role Notch had been intending for him to fill. Of course, how would Steve had known any of this?

This time, Notch is going to tell him.

That's it, his mind's made up. He's going to march down there and tell Steve everything he deserves to hear. But whether or not Steve will believe him...Notch'll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

He waits for Steve to walk into his house before teleporting behind some trees several blocks away. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that there's no way Steve could possibly react as poorly as Herobrine, and just because they look the same doesn't mean Steve's going to let that dictate his response.

(But of course Notch can't help but to think of all the similarities between this meeting and the last.)

After a few more calming breaths he walks out from behind the tree and approaches the house. The dogs perk up at the sound of his foot steps and he projects a calming aura to keep them from barking. This is one perk of being creator of the world—all animals love him. If only that worked with humans too.

* * *

Steve steps out of his house, his arms full of more stuff. The day is nice, so he's decided to sort his stuff outside, that way Socks and Ty aren't confined indoors and are free to wander and play all they wish.

He sets his stuff down under a window and makes a few more trips inside to cart the rest of his things. He starts humming to himself after a while, and finds a jukebox on his last trip. "Huh." How long has he had this? He lifts it up and inspects it. Its condition seems fine, and there's nary a scratch on it. When did he even make this thing? Or had Herobrine brought it at some point and had forgotten to tell him?

"Well its a nice find anyway," he mutters to himself, placing the jukebox outside and going in search of a record. He's sure he's got one...somewhere, in all the piles of miscellaneous items. It takes a few minutes to find a dusty record labeled with a ring of green, and he slides it into the jukebox and waits.

Soon, the gentle sounds of the record drifts through the air and he nods his approval. Socks and Ty both seem unsure of the jukebox at first, as they carefully sniff at it and circle around it. They must find it acceptable because Ty playfully bats at Socks and they're off wrestling with each other in the tall grass.

Steve watches them with a smile before turning his attention to the piles.

**Steven.**

Jumping, Steve looks around. Had...had someone just talked to him? There's no one around from what he can see, but it  _really_  sounded like someone had just spoken his name. Had he imagined it? He puts a hand to his eyes to shade them from the sun and scans the horizon. Maybe the heat is getting to him? Either way, he feels his heart beat faster and he stands and waits.

**You aren't suffering illness, Steve. I'm a friend. I felt like this would be the easiest way to convince you of my identity.**

Steve puts a hand on his head, frowning. Someone is definitely talking to him, but...inside his head. The sensation is strange and there's a slight pressure at the base of his skull.

"Who are you?  _Where_  are you?" It's weird, the voice is too loud to be from anyone not standing directly in front of him, but there's no one here. He's really starting to feel freaked.

**I'm a friend, and I'm close, but I want you to understand who I am before you see me, otherwise I feel you won't be as receptive. Just trust me.**

And of course he  _does_ , for some reason. He feels like the voice is the most trustworthy thing in the world.

**I know this is must be strange for you—**

"You think?"

— **but you're a smart man. You've already dealt with someone like me. Actually, he's the reason I've come to talk to you.**

Steve frowns and watches his dogs, who're blissfully unaware of their owner's inner turmoil. He mulls the voice's words over, his eyes widening in realization. "Are you talking about Herobrine?"

**Yes. I've noticed that his absence is taking a toll on you. I don't like seeing you unhappy.**

He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms and leaning against his house. It feels weird talking to a discombobulated voice, but it feels even weirder talking about all his current problems with said voice. Slightly uncomfortable with the topic, he shrugs. "I guess...I'd just gotten used to him being here, and now that he's gone I have nothing to do, you know?"

**I recall you being the one encouraging him to leave.**

"Yeah, but...if you know that then you know how clingy he was being. I couldn't walk two steps without him asking if I was alright. Mostly I just needed some space, but I've had my space and I'd like my friend back."

**So you two have become quite close?**

"He's not  _that_  bad." Steve smiles. "It just takes a little to get used to him, but he's a real friend."

**I'm happy to hear that. I could only hope that this would happen.**

"Yeah...that reminds me, uh...who are you?"

A light chuckle, and the voice sounds like it's smiling.  **I need to make sure you'll believe me before I tell, though I think you'd be quite receptive. It'll just do no good since you've already seen me.**

"I have?" Steve scratches his head in thought, the answer coming quickly to him. "Ah! The man from a few days ago?"

**That's correct.**

"That was you? So...you're not human then?"

**No.**

"Huh. But—wait, you encouraged me to go after him—er, I guess you know I was talking about Herobrine..."

**Yes and yes.**

"But how did you know I was feeling sad? Actually, now that I think about it, how do you know so much about me in general?"

The voice doesn't answer, and Steve waits patiently, feeling like the voice, though quiet, hasn't left him. He watches the dogs while waiting.

**I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I've been watching you all your life. You and your happiness are very important to me.**

"But why? Why do you care?"

**I care about all my creations.**

The words hit him like a pile of bricks, and he feels like the wind's been knocked out of him. The realization of who's been talking to him like an old friend blows his mind.

"Your—? But that means...you can't be..." Can it be?

"I can't make you believe, I can only ask you to."

He jumps, spinning to the side where that same man from a few days ago stands. He looks exactly as Steve remembers, and with the revelation of his identity Steve had expected different. This isn't just some  _guy_  this is...the Creator! But he looks like a normal man.

"N-Notch..."

The Creator smiles, and it's the friendliest thing he's ever seen. Just the sight of it makes Steve want to relax and remain calm. "So you believe me?"

Steve opens his mouth and pauses. There's really no reason not to believe him, after the proof that's just been shoved in his face.

"It's...a little hard to believe, but I do."

The man—er, Notch—chuckles and smiles. "I understand. You've heard from Herobrine about me, haven't you?"

Well if there had been any doubt, it's gone now. Notch had said that factually, and no way in the Nether could anyone have known about that. "Not...the greatest of things."

At this Notch frowns a bit. "Yes...I suppose he would loom back angrily on those times and my actions. But that's for another time," Notch says, switching topics quickly. His and Herobrine's disastrous past is something they need to sort out themselves, and Notch knows that when Steve and Herobrine meet again Herobrine will just tell Steve all the details anyway. "I've come to talk to you."

"Why me though? Did I do something?" It's still bugging him that he can't figure out why the God would choose to visit him. It's not like they're old friends and Notch is here for a social visit(however much it seems like that). He hadn't even known what Notch'd looked like before a few days ago.

"No no, you're not in trouble or anything!" Notch laughs. "What, do you think I visit bad people and punish them or something?"

"You know, I don't really know what to think. This is all very strange to me and I'm trying really hard not to flip out."

"I completely understand. I think I'd feel the same if the person responsible for my life showed up before me as well. But I've noticed you've been in a bit of a slump recently and I couldn't just sit back and watch. Usually I don't like interfering in the lives of my people but—"

"So why did you?" Steve interrupts. Notch is turning out to be quite the character. From Herobrine's account Steve had thought the Creator would be cold and distant, but the reality is the opposite. All he sees is a warm hearted individual who clearly cares enough about his creations to personally help one. "I mean, I'm just a guy. There are plenty of other people who are way less fortunate than I and probably need your company twice as much as me."

"Steve...Haven't you ever wondered why you and Herobrine look alike?"

The question catches him off guard. "Ye...yeah, sometimes."

"The reason is because I'm selfish. When Herobrine and I lost contact, I knew that eventually I'd try again. He's told you about his past, about how I created him first and then other humans after, correct?"

Steve nods.

"Of course that'd been a huge mistake, but there was nothing I could have done, other than start over. And so that's what I did, using the same—well, this is complicated to explain but I used the same template for you as I did for him. But I wanted you to understand and love humans, so instead of creating you right then and there, as I had for Herobrine, I made it so that you'd be born. In the beginning that worked well and you thrived, but Herobrine was still in the Overworld and angry, and because you two looked the same people started confusing you for him. They too were angry, and sought revenge when you showed aversions for fighting back. You—" Notch pauses as he realizes he's starting to reveal things he hadn't quite yet wanted to. Whoops. "Steve, you need to know that you're not human, not in the same way as the others..." He trails off, noticing Steve's frozen expression of shock.

Slowly, Steve lowers himself to a sitting position and pulls his knees in close, burying his face in his hands. He stays like that, completely silent, long enough to make Notch fidget with growing anxiety. He knows that he's just said some pretty heavy things.

"Steve?" Notch ventures. He almost reaches out but refrains. "Are you alright?"

A little shake of his head before he jerks it up, drawing in a calming breath. "Yeah no, I'm great, Just...that was a bit of a shocker and a lot to take in, you know?"

"I do, and I'm sorry that you're hearing it all at once. But it's good for you to know, and I couldn't in good conscious let you go out into the world without this knowledge."

Steve nods, because it all makes sense, and stands on shaky legs. His heart is racing. Not human? Then what is he? He looks human. He  _feels_  human, so how can he be anything else? "So—not human?" Wow that eloquence. He chalks it up to being on the fringe of a mental breakdown.

Notch chuckles nervously and kicks at some loose pebbles, feeling more like a guilty child than he ever has. "Technically no, I'm sorry. You share more than just an appearance with Herobrine. Even without his abilities he can live forever, and the same goes for you."

"I can live...forever..." Is this the real life? Maybe he's dreaming. Maybe he'd slipped and hit his head and is dreaming, and he'll wake up soon and continue doing his normal human things because that's what normal humans do, they do human things. And this guy, 'Notch,' it's the same guy from a few days ago and that perfectly explains why he's here, because Steve had just seen him. Yes, it's all coming together now! This is some elaborate hallucination his messed up brain seems fit to plague him with.

"You've always had an optimistic sense of humor Steve, that's something I'm proud of, but I'm sorry, you're not dreaming. I can pinch you if you'd like to prove to yourself?"

"I—Maybe you only know what I'm thinking because you're a figment of my imagination."

"That's...a reasonable assumption, but you're a smart man. Does this feel like a dream?"

The air is warm as it blows through his hair and ruffles his clothes. The ground is solid beneath his boots and his heart's pounding in his chest. He feels alive, and not at all like he's dreaming.

"Look, I'm sorry," he says, holding his hands up. "This is just too weird for me. I've gone my whole life thinking I'm human and now you're telling me I'm not. Don't you see that I'd have a little bit of a hard time believing that? Or accepting that?"

"I don't blame you," Notch says easily, probably having anticipated this reaction. "I think I'd be weary too. But you've dealt with Herobrine, and other non humans before though you don't remember it, yet nothing's changed you or stopped you from achieving your goals."

"But how do  _I_  know everything will work out?" This is a question Steve needs answered. All his life he's been forced away from others and sought solidarity because he's been afraid of outcomes. People have turned on him and lied to him and hurt him, and he's no reason to trust them anymore. But like Herobrine, he needs to understand where he stands in the world in relation to others. The only problem holding him back is that he doesn't fully believe that his journey will amount to anything.

"You don't. That's just on of the many wild unpredictabilities of life. It's something all humans go through."

"But you said I'm not human."

Notch stares at him for a few moments before smiling and holding his hand out. "Take my hand, Steve, there's something I'd like to show you."

"Uh..." He eyes the hand critically before sighing and throwing caution to the wind.

A familiar sensation overcomes him that he hasn't felt(or misses)in a long time. Although still terribly gut wrenching in the worst way, teleportation reminds him strongly of Herobrine and he feels a pang of sadness stab at his heart. He squeezes the hand in his on instinct and feels a return squeeze that sends waves of calmness through his being. Having not realized he's closed his eyes, he opens them when the dizziness fades.

"Where are we?" The sky is a pale blue, like a more pastel version of the Overworld. There are light cream clouds that drift lazily in a soft breeze. The ground looks like grass but the color is lighter than he's ever seen grass. The buildings he can see appear to be made mostly out of quartz, with subtle stone brick accents. It's breathtaking.

"The Aether. Come, this way." Steve blinks and stumbles to catch up to Notch, who's walking briskly to a ledge. He stops and gestures a hand to whatever's on the other side. "Take a look."

Slowly, he peaks over, and gasps.

The Overworld, stretching out for dozens of chunks before them. There are a few different biomes visible, though mostly it's all plains and forest. There are several small villages built in a loose circle around a rather large one. So large, Steve doesn't think the world village can applies to it.

He's never seen something so beautiful before. While the people he has trouble with, there's always been a connection to the land that he can't explain, but he can feel it now as he looks down at the world he loves.

"This is a highly populated area called Coal Dust Kingdom. As the name implies there's a King, and a Queen, and they're an energetic people. They celebrate the land often and have parties and festivals for the smallest of occasions, like the coming of Summer or the birth of a baby, human and animal alike. From watching them I've learned much about the way humans have developed from when I first created them. They are a shining example of what I had in mind when I created humans. Don't get me wrong, they're not perfect, but they're a step in the right direction."

"Wow!" Steve marvels, leaning on the ledge to see all of it. "I never knew so many people lived together like this. Most of the villages I've been to have only been home to a handful of people."

"More and more people are starting to build large communities like this." Notch leans on the ledge next to Steve, watching him awe over the sight. "Within a few decades I think most civilization will live like this."

"I can't imagine living with so many people." Steve shakes his head and rests his head in his hands. In the answering silence he glances over to see Notch staring at him. "What?"

"Do you not see yourself one day living around others?"

Steve looks back down, frowning. "I don't know, to be honest. I guess I never really thought about it much. I just kind of assumed it'd never happen." He shrugs. "There's not much I can do about people's opinions of me."

"Are you so sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"If Herobrine can do it, why can't you?"

"Well, Herobrine can defend himself, plus he can paralyze people with fear just by looking at them. I don't have powers like that. Most people don't bother hearing me out, since they assume I'm just trying to trick them. It makes sense and I get it, but I don't see people changing so quickly. I agree that I need to move on with my life but I'm not sure if it'll include anybody other than Herobrine." He sighs and stands up straight, facing Notch.

"I have faith in you Steve." Notch puts a hand on his shoulder. "I know it seems impossible but has that ever stopped you?"

"...No."

"No, it hasn't. When I said earlier that you weren't human, I didn't mean it in every way. Would you say that Herobrine is human?"

Is this a trick question? Isn't it obvious he's not? "No?"

"Why?"

Steve opens his mouth, thinks twice about it, and closes it. Why  _is_  it so easy to see Herobrine as something other than human? "He has...abilities? He can do things humans can't, like teleporting. You can do it, if anything I'd say Herobrine belongs up here more than in the Overworld."

"Is there another reason?" Notch urges. Steve taps his fingers against the ledge in thought.

"Sometimes...he doesn't  _seem_  human. He doesn't understand why humans do some of the things they do, and I used to get the impression he never cared to, like it was beneath him to understand humans on any level."

Notch smiles in a way that lets Steve know his answer is spot on. "But you understand humans just fine."

"I grew up around them."

"Exactly. Steve...it doesn't matter whether you're born or not, or whether you have superhuman abilities or not, what makes you human is your experiences, and what you choose to make of them. Herobrine was created when there were no others. He never got the chance to learn or teach, to ask for or give advice. But you have, and that's helped model you into the person you are now, a kind young man who always wants to do the right thing  _because_  it's the right thing to do. And that's why I think you can help change humanity's opinion of Herobrine. Because, as I said, if Herobrine, who should be at the disadvantage can do it, then why can't you?"

Steve lets the words sink it. Is...is Notch right? Can he really do all that? He's never felt that he was special, having always been put down since he was a child, but...the Creator believe in him. Maybe he should start believing in himself too.

So, of course he's right.

"I'll try. I think I owe you that much."

Notch shakes his head. "You owe yourself that much."

* * *

Herobrine hums to himself as he lays on the grass, enjoying the cool breeze of the coming night, when he feels it.

Opening his eyes he stills his body and listens. Only the wind rustling through the trees and a few distant sheep, no human heart beats to be found. But he can't shake the feeling of being watched.

After a few more moments the feeling passes. Maybe it had been an animal or—there  _are_  a few zombies and skeletons under the nearby trees, waiting for the sun to fully set. Maybe one of them had been mindlessly staring at him.

To keep the annoying mobs away he pushes his influence to its limit and shifts minutely on the grass. Resting on uneven and uncomfortable surfaces is not something new to him, so it's easy to find a decent resting position. And though he does not need the sleep he feels tired mentally and uses the night for rest. Quite the opposite of what his first instincts dictate, but humans are diurnal creatures so it won't do him any good showing up in a village at night.

But its okay because he likes the time to himself. Every day is a new experience and its hard to wrap his head around the day's events. Like the woman and her son from a few days ago, who's house burned down. She hadn't been afraid of him once he told her his name, and he finds this to be the case for most of his encounters. If he helps someone, and then reveals his identity, they're less likely to freak out, which is what he wants. He'd learned early on that its a bad idea to try it the other way around. He'd never realized that people were so scared of him, if the mere mention of his name or a glow in the night can spook them. No wonder Steve had a hard time growing up.

He sighs, propping one leg across the other as the stars start fading into sight.

What's Steve doing right now? Is he happy? Sad? Is his wound healed enough to not bother him or does he still feel pain?

He frowns and watches the stars twinkle. He knows that this is the line of thinking that separated them in the first place, and he takes full responsibility for that, but he can't help worrying about his friend. Being alone again is nice, in its own way, but he misses Steve. After having pleasant company, he doesn't want to feel lonely.

He's felt that enough throughout his life.

But there's nothing he can do about it. Well, okay he  _could_  just turn back and return to Steve, but he recognizes that he also needs to finish what he's started. Helping people is fulfilling, much to his surprise, and he's actually starting to look forward to it a little, even if most people stay weary of him. As long as they know he's here to help and not harm, he's doing his job.

And it feels good.

* * *

"Are you ready?"

Steve and Notch stand in front of Steve's house, facing the open plains. There's a rather large bag on Steve's back, full of all the supplies he'll need to help him survive in the wild. Socks and Ty are sitting obediently on either side of him.

At Notch's question, Steve smiles. "Wasn't I born ready for this?"

"That you were!" Notch laughs, patting Steve on the shoulder. "You'll do fine."

"I hope so." He hikes his bad up higher on his shoulder and takes a deep breath. "Well, I guess this is goodbye?"

"For now," Notch answers knowingly. "I'm always with you, should you need me."

"Right." Steve nods but remains standing. A few moments of silence passes between them where the wind blows and some pigs oink nearby. "I should really get going before the sun sets."

"You really should."

And yet, Steve can't bring himself to take a step forward.

"Steve."

"I know, I know, I'm just nervous." He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, petting Socks absentmindedly on the head.

"Here."

He looks over, seeing Notch holding something out. He takes it and turns it over.

"A compass?" Holding it up, he watches the needle settle, frowning. "But it doesn't point north?"

"No, it doesn't, but I suggest following it. I'll leave it up to you to discover where it leads."

 _A starting point._  It's pointing behind him, towards the forests and a little to the right. He looks up at Notch one last time. "Thank you, for everything."

And takes the first step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...
> 
> Look, I know that it's not smart to throw a whole bunch of new stuff at the reader at the end of a story or whatever, but there's a lot that I need to go over before the end. It just so happens that everything's revealed during the last chapter.
> 
> But next chap will definitely be the last, so you can look forward to a resolution between Notch and Herobrine, Steve and Humanity, and finally Steve and Herobrine.
> 
> See you all then!


	17. On My Way Home To You Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, this is it guys. The last chapter of The Basics. I must say this story derailed quite a bit from what I originally had in mind for it but I think it's still good.
> 
> Sorry if this chapter doesn't seem...idk, good enough? A fitting ending? I hope it is. See, there's this thing where you read something so often that you kind of get tired of seeing it, and that always happens to me at the end of a fic. Also sorry for the long wait.
> 
> Thanks for all the views and favs and follows and reviews! Love you guys 3
> 
> Enjoy

No matter how much time Herobrine spends around humans, he'll never understand them.

Case in point:

"Why the  _hell_  do people build villages in the  _snow!"_  Herobrine grumbles to himself as he trudges through the thick mounds of wet, disgustingly cold white powder. He's just spent the last few weeks hanging around Tundra Isle, a series of small villages built on top of a frozen lake deep in a taiga biome. He knows that first of all, he doesn't have to visit any particular village, and second of all, it's good for him to face his "fears," or whatever(he's not afraid of snow, that's dumb and pointless—he's...wary, of it, is all). Plus spending time in the cold helps him adjust to it, but that's beside the point.

He still doesn't like snow and he probably never will, and he's okay with that. Comparatively, very few villages reside in colder biomes anyway so it's not like he has an absolutely dire need to get used to cold climates. That's not an excuse either.

As the snow recedes and he stops seeing so much white everywhere, he can finally let out a sigh of relief as his internal temperature heats back up. It's kind of weird to think that, at one point in his life he'd been just as vulnerable to fire and heat as any other human, but now he actually enjoys swimming in lava and walking through deserts—hell, walking through the Nether. Just another thing that sets him and humans apart, he supposes.

Glaring back at the dreadful sight of a snow covered biome, Herobrine pulls the hood of his cloak down and takes a few minutes to rub life back into his limbs. Thankfully he doesn't permit anyone to travel along side him or else his one weakness would probably be spread through humanity like a wild fire through a savanna. He really doesn't need humans trying to trick him into cold areas to attack him. He already faces enough hostility, but he knows he can't complain. He does kind of deserve it.

As he starts walking again, he thinks back on his many years of travel. All and all, his efforts to aid humanity have effected them a lot faster than his efforts to destroy them ever had. It'd taken years for everyone to know that two white eyes in the night were a bad sign, but now he can walk into a village and have people run up to him, asking questions and wanting him to help them with something. At first it'd been disorienting but now he welcomes it. He's just glad people smile around him instead of running in fear.

He walks for several hours, once again thanking his stamina and otherworldly abilities. Instead of four years his adventure would have taken much longer if he had to rest for the night. Or eat.

Just as he's entering a forest biome, which unfortunately borders another snow covered taiga biome, a growl followed by a whimper makes him pause. It'd sounded like a dog, but he doesn't see anything.

Before he can take another step, a dog comes bounding out of the forest, barking and skidding to a stop just before crashing into him. It jumps and paws at him, and he stumbles away from it, momentarily surprised by it's incredibly friendly behavior.

"Well hey there boy, calm down." He kneels down and pats the dog, noticing a collar snug around it's neck. The small round gold plate reads  _"TY."_

"You have a collar but where's your owner?" He can't sense anyone around, and as far as he knows there aren't any villages around here. Had he run away?

"I...don't really know what to do with you." He stands back up and puts his hands on his hips, the dog—Ty—sitting patiently and waiting for him. From the way he's panting it looks like he's smiling at Herobrine.

"You sure are friendly."

Ty's head tilts to the side, and Herobrine smiles.

"And cute." He looks around again and tries to lock onto someone's heart beat or steps or breathing, but him and the dog are alone. "I guess you can come with me, if you want."

A bark and a tail wagging hard enough to thumb audibly against the ground is his answer. "That settles that. Come on then boy, let's find you some food. You're probably hungry, huh?"

He doesn't know why he's talking to an animal he knows can't understand or talk back to him, but it feels right so he doesn't look too much into it. While he's against human traveling companions, maybe a dog won't be so bad.

* * *

_One Week Earlier_

_Steve squints through the flurry of white to check which way the compass points. It's hard to see in the snow storm, but as far as he can tell he's going the right direction._

_The storm doesn't really feel as bad as it looks, but all the snowflakes in the air is making it hard to see straight. Luckily Ty and Socks don't seem as affected as he is._

_After taking a few more steps a gust of wind knocks his hood over and blows snow in his face. He shivers and quickly readjusts his hood, but he's had enough._

" _Ty! Socks! Come on boys!" He turns to his left, ignoring the compass pointing to his right now. The border between biomes isn't too far, he'll just go around the taiga. Honestly that's what he should have done in the beginning._

_As he steps onto dry patches of grass, he crosses his arms and rubs his hands along them to warm himself up. Boy does he hate taigas. Herobrine's right, warm climates are so much better._

_He sees Socks run out of the snow, shaking his fur to dislodge any lingering clumps. Steve smiles until he notices Ty missing. "Ty?"_

_He squints into the taiga but can't see past the falling snowflakes, as if there's a wall in front of him. "Ty!"_

_Panic speeds his heart as he hears and sees nothing to indicate the location of his dog. "Socks!" Socks looks at him, ears up. "Socks, find Ty. Find him boy!"_

_At first Steve thinks Socks doesn't understand him, but one of his ears twitches and he turns, alert. Steve has his mouth open to tell Socks to find Ty again when a terrible thought crosses his mind. What if he lets Socks go and he doesn't return?_

_He bites his lip, glancing between Socks and the taiga. The taiga is a big place, and with the snowstorm Steve can't rely on his dogs' sense of smell to guide them back._

_Even though it feels like his heart's breaking, he grabs Socks by the collar and tugs him away from the taiga._

* * *

Five weeks of walking with this dog next to him and Herobrine never wants to see him go.

As strange as it may be, Herobrine's list of friends would put Steve first, then Ty second, and maybe it's a little pathetic that only an animal could become such a close friend of his, but he's always known, deep down, that him and humanity...there's just a lot of history that needs to be paved over and though Herobrine's made great strides in fixing his past wrongs, it'll take a lot more to prove to the Overworld that he's no longer a force for evil but for good.

And so far it's been going great which he's happy about. It's really all he can ask for, except maybe that Steve were with him, sharing in his adventure. It pains him to think of Steve still back at his house, alone and isolated, while Herobrine's exploring the world and making a new name for himself. It feels wrong without Steve but Steve had been the one to push him to leave in the first place.

What a great decision that had been.

* * *

_Five Days Ago_

_Steve sighs at the prospect of another taiga and feels a strong dislike towards the idea of traversing it._

_Though much like how he had been previously, Socks sometimes acts in ways that tears Steve's heart apart. Socks and Ty had obviously been so close, like brothers, it's a shame to see Socks suddenly without his other half. Those two dogs were so close and now Socks stares into the distance, posture tense and ears up as if listening. Steve can't bare to see his dog so lost, and even he feels like a part of himself is missing._

" _Socks."_

_The dog looks at him and he pats his leg, urging the dog to come closer. Once within reach Steve kneels down and pats his dog. "I know it's hard bud, but we'll get through it."_

_He sighs and stands, looking to the taiga. No time like the present._

_The villagers are nice in Tundra Isle, so that boosts his mood. They're a lively bunch who like living a bit on the wild side, especially at night._

_He decides to stay a night, to give him and Socks a chance to relax and eat a proper meal._

_On a whim he takes out the compass. He's become a little attached to it in the last four years he's been following it. Maybe that's to be expected, since it's suppose to lead him to his friend, but he feels...almost a compulsion to check it several times a day._

_His brows furrow as he stares down at the red needle. He'd been going...North, right? Yeah, it'd been pointing solidly North and now points to his left, to the South._

_He shakes it and walks slowly around the room. No matter what direction he faces, it keeps pointing to the South._

_But...he'd just come from that direction...Could that mean—_

_Had Herobrine been close by at some point?_

* * *

Herobrine sighs loudly for about the twentieth time in an hour and finally stops walking. Ty, a few paces ahead, pauses and looks back at him, waiting.

And his unwanted traveling companions stop as well, several steps behind him.

He turns around to face them and tries to make sense of it all. A creeper, an enderman, and two spiders. A biome ago, when there had been trees, skeletons and zombies had been present as well.

He just wants to understand why. Why are they following him? And why do they act like they don't know who he is? Once upon a time he'd been the most feared "hostile mob," and even if he is different now, that doesn't explain their behavior.

Talking to them will be pointless, and he can't teleport in fear of leaving the dog, who he's grown quite attached to in the last couple of weeks. It's nice having someone to keep him company and to talk to, even if he looks weird talking to a dog. Like he's ever cared what people think about him.

It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for the  _noise_. The creeper he has no problem with; they're known for being silent, after all. The enderman too has been reasonably quiet. It's the spiders. If he has to listen to one more hiss he's going to lose it. He could try teleporting the dog with him but he's never tried it on an animal and he'd rather not experiment on an animal he's fond of. But he's running out of options here.

He could just kill the spiders. He toys with the handle of the blade strapped to his hip. That could work, right? And a creeper and an enderman shouldn't care about the lives of some stupid spiders. Yeah.

He walks up to the four of them and hesitates. Sure there are thousands of spiders roaming the Overworld, and it's not like they've ever explicitly done anything against him, but for some reason, as he stands over the two spiders, he can't bring himself to strike them down. No matter how annoying they are with their incessant hissing, if he's learned anything from living with humans and wandering the world, it's that every life should be protected, human, animal, or mob.

Still, he really can't take another minute of hissing.

"Go away," he urges, making a shooing motion with his hands. The creeper looks at him, the enderman pretends he's not there, and the spiders both angle their heads up at him. Good, they heard him. "Yeah, you two. Leave." He doesn't know why he's talking to them, he already knows they won't listen. Zombies, though seen as the stupidest mob, amazingly take orders the best, skeletons coming in at a close second. Wither skeletons and blazes are the most stubborn, and so are endermen, when they want to be. Spiders he's never really had problems with but that was back when they all feared him. He wonders how they know he's different, because these four mobs clearly don't fear him.

The spiders scuttle around but don't leave, and he pinches the bridge of his nose in agitation. Great. A noise to his left makes him look up, and he smiles. A pig.

Hmm...

He looks between the pig and Ty. They're roughly the same size...

Herobrine walks up to the pig and once again, hesitates. When did he become so cautious about things? He does kind of feel bad for what he might potentially do to this innocent pig, but his annoyance level is at a maximum, so desperate times, desperate measures, and all that.

Putting a hand on the pigs back, he quickly teleports both of them a few blocks away. Thoroughly used to the feeling and experience, Herobrine often wonders just how disorienting it must be for others. Steve had certainly developed something of an aversion to the instant travel. But the pig seems fine. A little confused perhaps, though he can't know for sure since pigs don't have higher brain functions and can't talk, but it shakes off Herobrine's hand and continues on it's way.

All it takes is another hiss from one of those infuriating spiders and his mind is made up. He walks up to Ty, wraps his arms around the dog's shoulders, and teleports away.

They're in a new biome, the next one over from the plains they were just in. It's a forest and he's glad he didn't misjudge and teleport them into a tree. That would have been unfortunate.

Like the pig, Ty appears unharmed and unbothered by the teleportation, so that's a plus. Gives him a way out if more mobs decide to follow him around. He lets go and Ty looks up at him, the looks of a smile on his face. Herobrine can't help but smile back and dig a bone out of his pack. He tosses it on the ground and Ty pounces on it.

He takes a look around to get his bearings and starts walking again. He's close now, and he's both excited and nervous. How long has it been now, four years? Five? The short answer is too long, in his opinion, though entirely worth it. He honest can't believe that there'd been a time where he would have tormented someone and called it fun, or laughed at someone's misfortune. If it hadn't been for crossing paths with Steve in the mine that one day, he never would have "seen the light," and for that he's eternally grateful.

Which is why he's so excited to be returning to Steve. He misses his friend dearly and can't wait to see him again, but on the other side he's nervous for the same reasons. He hasn't seen or talked to Steve in so long, will doing so again be weird? Will it be stilted and awkward? He's hoping that they can just pick their friendship up right from where it went off, but maybe that's just wishful thinking. Then again, Steve's a pretty laid back guy. He knows that it'll be like no time at all has passed between them.

He recognizes this forest as being the one Steve's house is located on, at the border between it and the desert and plains. He's so close to being home, the pressure almost makes him want to turn back. But back to where, is his problem. Steve's house had, at some point, become  _home_ , no matter how many houses he can call his own now, spread across dozens of villages. And though there are people who would very much like for him to return, he can't, not right now. He hasn't been home, truly home, in over four years and he'd love to feel that way again, like he's welcomed and not accepted out of suspicion or fear.

At least it's sunny outside. That's a good omen, right?

He whistles a little tune as he and Ty walk leisurely through the dense trees. Never one to shy away from the sun and its intense heat, he tries to avoid the large patches of shade for a more pleasant walk. Every so often he pauses and pours water from some bottles in his pack into a small dish for Ty, and when the sun is high above them they stop to enjoy lunch. Herobrine doesn't need to eat as often as humans(indeed he can go several days without any food), but Ty certainly needs his strength up.

They've been traveling a long time to get here but Herobrine thinks Ty might be a young dog, capable of making the trek with ease. He's certainly spunky enough, if all the running around and barking is any indication.

The closer he gets, the more nervous he becomes. Will everything be the same? Or will Steve have renovated the house into something completely new? Will Steve have changed?

That's probably the biggest question Herobrine's carried with him all this time. Four years is a long time for a human. Time changes them, but Herobrine's confident that Steve will be the same. There's a small part of him that worries, but it's probably just his imagination at work. Something he's discovered about himself is that he worries needlessly over the smallest of things. Never in a million years would he have pegged himself as a worry-wart, but he can't help it at times. Hell, he worries about a dog he's only known for a few weeks.

He's losing his rough edge...

But he's kind of okay with that.

A flash of brown between the green leaves catches his eye and he stops short. There it is, through the trees the faded wood and dusty glass is visible, and a rush of emotion sweeps through him. Excitement. Anxiety. Worry(always with the worry). Happiness above all.

He's finally home.

He wonders if Steve will be here? It's just past midday, Steve might be in the mines.

Ty barks and runs forward, and Herobrine's stricken by how...ironically, by how at home Ty seems. The dog sniffs by the door, his tail wagging vigorously the whole time. He whines and scratches at the door, and as Herobrine walks up to the door, something immediately becomes apparent to him.

The house looks abandoned. The wood is faded into a pale, dull brown, and the glass is far to dusty to be livable. The grass is severely overgrown, weeds and dead flowers littering the ground everywhere he looks. He would consider knocking on the door but it might crumble at the smallest of touches.

"Well this doesn't seem right, huh?" He says, looking down at Ty. Ty wags his tail and scratches at the door again.

Slowly, he creaks the door open and steps inside. The darkness does nothing to obstruct the disarray inside. The whole place is empty.

The bed is still here, and a table and chair on the opposite side, but other than that the house is just that: a house. This is not someone's home.

"What could have happened?" He says, whether to himself or Ty who knows. The happiness and excitement from earlier comes crashing down around him, giving way to confusion, disappointment, and sadness.

Ty loops around the house before bolting back outside, and with a heavy sigh Herobrine follows. As he stands just outside the door, a soft breeze picks up, ruffling his clothes and the trees and the overgrown grass. A memory of him and Steve watching the clouds pass by after a tiring but enjoyable mining trip comes to the forefront of his mind unbidden and a wave of determination washes over him. He spins and stares at the house.

He'll fix it.

And he'll wait.

This is his home too, after all.

* * *

A few days have passed, and while the house is still in deplorable condition, it's not as bad as it had been. Luckily there are plenty of trees around, so he's rebuilt the walls and roof, and cleaned the glass enough to actually see through it. Ty has been no help at all, always lounging in the sun or chasing after chickens that wander too close. Herobrine's caught a few and keeps them in a makeshift pin. While he doesn't need the food, Ty does, and he takes care to feed his dog every day, even if he has to go out and hunt it down himself. Probably the best source of food is zombie flesh, which he's surprised Ty will even look at, let alone eat.

It works out in his favor though, since zombies are drawn to him, like all other mobs. They never used to be, so their new behavior confuses and annoys him. He constantly wonders what's making them flock to him, but he can't think of a good reason.

He spends one day back in the mines, but his mind's not fully in it. Too many memories resurfacing and distracting him. It had been pretty well cleaned out the last time he'd been in it too, so he's not surprised to find hardly any iron and coal, forget about gold and diamonds.

He doesn't need the ores and gems, not with the double chests in the Nether full of the things, but it's a humbling job, digging to bedrock and hauling up any treasures he finds. The most interesting bits of mining are definitely the abandoned mineshafts, mostly because he never knows what he'll find there. He's pretty old and he still wonders at some of the stuff in there. They'd clearly been constructed and subsequently abandoned while he had been in the Nether, but it makes him think. Just how long had he been out of the Overworld? How much time had passed? And how did the technology advance to become what it is today?

Some of the things he's seen in villages, in his time he never would have even dreamed about things like that. Enchanting tables alone are so basic now, but they hadn't existed when he'd been...created. Hardly anything that exists now had existed back then.

It's not really something he likes to think about.

* * *

Weird how sometimes two completely different experiences can be good for someone. For Herobrine, it turns out that he's needed to live with people, and live by himself.

And the Nether doesn't count, because spending decades stewing in his own rage and hatred had only made him bitter and instill a false sense of superiority over the humans of the Overworld. But he's not better than them, just different, and in such a way that he can use that to help them.

For the last month he's been living in Steve's old house. Steve's—or, he supposes the house is his now, right?— _his_  house is located in such a wonderful position, to be on the border of three biomes with a fourth not too far away. And with one of those three biomes being a desert, he never has to worry about the cold. Even the plains and the forest are heated, thanks to the desert, and the distant jungle biome almost rivals the desert in temperature. All in all it's a pleasant life he has now. But it's still not complete.

Even if he could only talk to Steve for a few minutes that would suffice. He just wants to know how his friend is doing and why he left. Honestly? He'd kind of expected Steve to still be waiting for him, so he's shocked by the miner's absence. What could have influenced his decision to leave? Whatever the reason, it has to be good.

* * *

It's on a normal day when the most unexpected thing happens.

There's a knock on the door.

Ty, from where he'd been resting by Herobrine as he repairs some tools and his diamond sword, barks and runs to the door, but as soon as the dog reaches it he stops barking and sits, then looks back at Herobrine, who'd watched that entire sequence with raised brows. That certainly had been weird.

Who could be at the door? For a second his mind immediately thinks of Steve, but he tries not to get his hopes up as he crosses the house to open the door.

All of those hopes he'd had about it being Steve? Yeah, they all burn up and turn to disappointment and annoyance at the face of Notch.

Notch's timid smile and clear discomfort at the situation does nothing to make Herobrine feel better about seeing him. More than anything he just wants Notch to leave and never come back but somehow he doesn't think that will happen. He does feel a building anger but tries to hold it back. The old him would have embraced the anger and dealt with this situation violently. He's not that person anymore.

"I'm surprised you didn't send one of your lackeys to talk to me," Herobrine says, cutting straight to the point.

Notch's hopeful look of this conversation turning out well falters into confusion. "I never send them to you, they come on their own volition because they care about your well being as much as I do."

Herobrine won't bother trying to argue that Notch does not, in fact, care about him or his well being if the years and years of avoiding and ignoring him have anything to say about it. Notch could apologize a thousand times and Herobrine would still feel salty about what happened all those years ago.

"And I'm supposed to believe that, yeah okay, look, I don't want to deal with you, uh...ever, so if you could leave that would be fantastic."

Any hopes that Notch had about confronting him look appropriately crushed now, and it seems that he can't even bring himself to retort. Instead he nods and turns away, but for some... _damn_  reason the action stabs at Herobrine heart.

"Wait," He says because he hates himself. He thinks he understands why humanity as a whole had bothered him so much and why he sometimes finds them so impossible to deal with; Notch had based them off himself. It all makes sense now, especially his seemingly unjustifiable rage towards them all, in the beginning.

Now Notch looks hopeful again and Herobrine scoffs. "I guess...if there's one thing I've learned it's that people aren't always what they seem. And if I can get along with your creations, I should be able to get along with you."

The relieved smile and open look of happiness on the God's face makes him sick. "That's—"

" _But—_ " He takes delight watching Notch's smile fall. "That doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends or that I even have to talk to you. Because I don't, do you understand? I don't need you, I never have and I never will." Perhaps a little cruel, but it's his honest belief that Notch deserves this from him.

"I understand," Notch says, suddenly solemn and serious. "The people who pray to me...they're so lost in their lives, they want my to fix their problems for them. And hardly any of them find the strength to overcome. But you did, thanks to Steve. I'm happy so long as no one needs me, so long as my people are content and at peace. And even though all I want and have ever wanted is peace in the Overworld, I had been the one to disrupt the balance. But everything is right now. I didn't come here expecting you to welcome me with open arms. I didn't even expect you to talk to me. But the reason I came here today is not to beg for forgiveness I know may never be granted. I came to tell you to wait, although..." Notch looks up at the house. "I can see that you plan on staying here for a while."

Herobrine crosses his arms, glad that he and Notch are, for perhaps the first time, on the same page. "I was thinking about it."

"Good. Then farewell." Notch smiles and walks away, and just before Herobrine stops tracking his movements with his eyes, Notch turns and says, "Don't say I never did anything for you!"

Then he's gone and Herobrine's left alone with Ty. He lets out a sigh, suddenly feeling like he's been tense for way too long. At least Notch doesn't expect forgiveness. Because Herobrine's not ready to give it. Not yet.

But maybe someday.

* * *

"Well doesn't this look familiar?" Steve says, staring into a forest. Socks wags his tail and Steve reaches down to pet him.

"I wonder if he found the house and left again? Maybe he went the other way to explore more of the world?" Steve walks into the forest, Socks right by his side. He's glad to see that Socks has regained some of that wild spirit he had in him when Ty had still been with them. At this point, no matter how much Steve hates to think it, he's pretty sure that Ty's dead. Never mind the cold, how will he have gotten food? Ty is—had been—the less ferocious of the duo. Socks might be able to survive the wild. Ty, Steve thinks his chances are a lot smaller.

He's glad he'd built his house next to a forest. The forest biome is his favorite, if he were to chose one. Something about the patterns of sunlight under the trees and the natural sounds of wind ruffling leaves. The peacefulness of it all is probably what draws him in the most. And the isolation, of course, from others. Though now he wouldn't factor that in to a suitable living environment.

When he sees a hint of brown through the leaves he can't help but smile. It feels weird being back after all these years, doubly so considering he's about to see his good friend again, who he's missed so much these long years. And he's only heard good things about Herobrine from villagers all over the place, so he's eager to talk to Herobrine about his experiences.

He breaks through the tree line and slows. He'd expected a run down, horribly poor-conditioned shack at this point, but the house looks better than ever, possibly better than when he'd first built it. He feels his heart beat speed up and nervously approaches the door. It's the middle of the day and he's nervous about knocking on the door of his own house. What kind of sense does that make? As he waits, he looks through the door's small windows. For some reason there's a pile of bones on the floor. That's weird.

A few more minutes and his hopes waver when there's no answer. "Huh. Maybe he's out at the moment?" Steve asks Socks, looking down at his dog. Socks is staring intently into the forest.

Just to be sure, Steve pulls out the compass. Sure enough, the red needle is pointing behind him and to the left. He turns around until the needle points straight ahead, and follows with his eyes the direction he needs to go. A little through the forest and then the desert. Great. Of course Herobrine would have gone to the desert.

He takes a step forward then hesitates, glancing back at the house.  _Someone_  had to have restored it. "Maybe it wasn't him," he mutters to himself, continuing farther.

He passes the opening to the mine he'd dug out and has to pull Socks away from it to get the dog to follow him. Socks sure has been acting weird around here. Steve feels that it means something, but the only thing he can think of is that Socks smells something peculiar and want to track it. But Steve would rather not lost two dogs so quickly. Socks barks and Steve stops dead in his tracks when he hears an answering bark.

Then, from out of the mine, comes Ty.

* * *

"You sure are more trouble than you're worth, you know that?" Herobrine says to Ty as he and the dog walk up the stairs to the surface. Why dogs like bones he'll never know, but if he can get the dog to stop barking all the damn time then he'd gladly spend hours hunting skeletons. Ty's got one bone in his mouth and he'd teleported several more to the house so as to not burden himself.

Herobrine's keen sense of hearing picks up foot steps on the surface, two sets actually, one slow the other faster. He then strains to hear heartbeats, and recognizes another human and dog.

Then, before he knows it, Ty's barking and bolting up the stairs. Herobrine, confused and slightly alarmed, chases after.

As soon as Ty darts out of the mines and turns sharply, so he can no longer see the dog, Herobrine instinctively teleports to the surface to keep an eye on Ty. However, what he finds is much more important.

Ty and another dog are circling and pawing at each other, tails wagging vigorously. And a little past them stands a familiar and equally dumbstruck man.

"Herobrine?"

"...Steve."

"I thought you weren't here!" Steve says as he runs up to Herobrine, smiling widely. He doesn't hesitate to throw his arms around Herobrine's shoulders and hug him, and unlike every time before this Herobrine, almost mechanically, brings his arms up immediately to return the hug.

Their impromptu reunion is interrupted when two dogs crash into their legs. Steve laughs as he kneels down and embraces Ty, the dog doing his best to lick the entirety of Steve's face.

"Ty! You're alive! Oh thank you, thank you Gods." A few more pets and Steve stands up, letting Socks and Ty reacquaint themselves. "Where did you find him?" Steve asks him.

"Uh—I uh..." Why is he so flustered?  _Get a hold of yourself!_ He mentally berates. He clears his throat. "I found the dog—or more like the dog found me several weeks ago by a taiga. There'd been no sign of an owner and I couldn't in good conscious leave the mutt for dead. Considering it had a collar I figured it probably couldn't survive on it's own, and since it didn't seem scared of me I welcomed it."

"That makes sense, seeing as how he probably thought you were me to some degree. I'm just glad he's okay..."

There's a silence that could be awkward if Herobrine doesn't say anything, so he desperate racks his brain for something to say.

"I have to say, I'm a little confused as to how you knew I was here? It can't be a coincidence that we both came here within a couple weeks of each other."

"Oh yeah!" Steve pulls a compass from his pocket and holds it between them. Herobrine notices right away that it doesn't point North and is instead pointing towards him.

"A broken compass?" He asks.

"No silly, it points to you! Watch." Steve walks in a circle around him, and Herobrine is fascinated as the needle remains pointing at him no matter which direction the compass faces. "I used this to follow your general path, hoping that I'd run into you at some point. Several months ago it changed direction suddenly and led me back home."

"May I see it?" Herobrine asks, and Steve hands it to him. As soon as he touches it he can feel the power of the Aether within it. But who had finally made contact with Steve to gift it?

"Notch gave it to me," Steve says, as if reading his thoughts. "He visited me one day and pretty much told me that it wasn't right for me to stay and wait and worry. He said that my purpose wasn't to hole myself up in a house, secluded from the rest of the world. Instead I should follow after you and see the world for myself, that it would be beneficial for the Overworld to see not only you but me as well. In the end I wanted to find you but had no idea how, so he gave me that compass."

"How long had it been until he talked to you?" Of course Steve wouldn't have waited here for more than four years. That's way too long a time for a human.

"Like a month or two, I don't really remember. I guess I didn't really know what I wanted at that time. I  _had_  wanted space because let's face it, you were being a little too overbearing, and while I appreciate everything you did for me, we both know I needed time to myself to heal properly. But I was ready for you to come back barely two or three weeks later. That's when I realized that you would only come back when you were ready, which left me in a strange spot. That's also when I found Socks and Ty here. Their company just about kept me sane. So then Notch came to me and told me all that stuff I just told you and then I was on my way." Steve smiles brightly at him and Herobrine's glad to know that hasn't changed about him. "What about you? What was your adventure like?"

"Oh, uh...why don't we head inside?" Herobrine suggests, watching the sun start to set. "You can put your stuff away and settle in. Then we can talk more."

"Sounds good to me."

As Steve heads towards his house, the two dogs trotting happily at his side, Herobrine smiles to himself and follows.

It sure is good to be home.

* * *

"Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

Jeb glances away from the mirror showing them Steve and Herobrine to study his friend's face. Neutral, but he can tell there's inner turmoil within Notch.

With a sigh he watches the two Overworld guardians reunite. "Maybe. Steve will put in a good word for you. Herobrine already knows by now that you gave Steve the compass. If you hadn't interfered who knows what might have happened."

He puts his hand on Notch's shoulder. "One day, he'll be ready."

Jeb walks away, leaving Notch to his thoughts. As he watches his two most precious creations, he looks forward to the day Herobrine will look at him as a friend and not an enemy. But for the time being, he's content watching after them. As Jeb had said, one day he'll be ready.

It's not too much to ask that day to be sooner rather than later, is it?


End file.
